Love amongst Madness: The Legacy of the Greaves
by keyblademaster72
Summary: After a long hiatus, Greaves is back for a second season! Having been plunged into a world of Lovecraftian horrors, our heroes must choose between duty and desire... GiroNatsu heavy, Rated M.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: Keroro Gunsou and all characters contained in this fanfiction are from the manga series by Mine Yoshizaki. The publishing rights of this series in America are owned by Tokyopop. I highly recommend that you go to your nearest comic book shop and pick up a non-pirated version of all 15 volumes - you can't get those shiny, holographic covers through illegal downloading, you know! (Oh, and while you're there, would you pick up some of those little melon-flavored candies they have next to the register? I love those things...)

**Further Disclaimer**: This series is rated OT (Older Teen) for disturbing scenes involving violence and madness, non-graphic sexual scenes, and a few instances of swearing. Chapters containing anything near-M-rated will be noted beforehand: 'Pirates, ye be warned.' Enjoy!

* * *

Natsumi yawned and rubbed her eyes blearily. She'd been hunched over those textbooks for nearly three hours, and her body was starting to feel like it'd rusted into place. With a painful crack of stiff joints, she stood and pushed away the Chemistry book she'd been studying from. She needed a break.

She headed toward the kitchen in search of a snack. As she passed the living room, a familiar irritating voice called out, "Ney, Natchii! What's for dinner?" She turned and fixed Keroro with a "drop dead" look, then continued on her way to the kitchen. "Heeey, c'mooon," he whined after her, "it's late already, and building Gunpla all day has really worked up my appetite, de arimasu!"

Ignoring the ensuing pleas, Natsumi leafed through the refrigerator with a frown. She hadn't been to the store in the past few days, so the selection wasn't great. Finally, she settled on a rice dumpling and hurried back to the sanctuary of her room before Keroro could yell at her again. Here, she wouldn't be disturbed by stupid frogs and their superficial problems.

Sighing, she flopped back on the bed and gazed through her bedroom window as she ate. It was already dark outside, and despite the glow of the city lights she could see a few stars twinkling against the night sky. Her eyes began to feel heavy and she sank deeper into the comfort of her bed. Even though she felt she shouldn't, she reached out her hand and turned off the lamp next to her bed. Studying could wait.

* * *

Natsumi didn't know how long she'd been asleep, but when she awoke the house was dark and quiet.

_Great! So much for a quick nap…._

She lay back against her pillow, still somewhat groggy, but not entirely in the mood to sleep again. She cast another glance through her window, and as she did so she picked up on the faint scent of woodsmoke from nearby. Giroro must have still been awake. Raising herself up, she propped one arm on the windowsill and peeked out. Sure enough, there sat the Keronian in front of a neat little fire, over which he was roasting a small piece of meat. His cat, Koneko, was pacing and butting her head against him impatiently, and he turned to speak to her. Natsumi smiled and pressed her head against the window, straining to hear what was being said.

"You're a walking stomach, aren't you, Koneko?" He chuckled, gingerly pushing the meat off of the stick and onto the ground near the feline. "If you keep eating it all, there won't be any left for me!"

Natsumi felt a bit guilty. Not only was she eavesdropping on her friend, but it was her fault that dinner hadn't been fixed in the first place. Nevertheless, she continued to smile and watch. She'd always known that Giroro, despite his tough appearance and perilous fighting skills, had somewhat of a softer side when no one else was watching. At first it had amused her, but now she found it touching. It made him seem almost… human.

She watched as he scratched Koneko's chin affectionately, then suddenly removed his belt and gazed at it thoughtfully. What was he doing? He flipped open the silver latch on the front and removed something from inside. From Natsumi's perspective, it appeared to be a photograph, but she couldn't see what it was of.

Koneko hissed.

"Easy, Koneko," Giroro warned, stroking her gently behind the ears. "Besides," he smiled, "you know you're still my favorite woman, right?"

Koneko was appeased, but Natsumi's stomach was doing flip-flops. _Wo-woman? That's a picture of… a woman?!_ She nibbled her lower lip, leaning in closer to see what he was doing. Her mind was abuzz. Part of her felt wrong spying on such an intimate moment, but her curiosity had crested and now she couldn't let it rest. _Is there… is there a girl he likes? No way…_

Giroro held the picture up to the firelight to get a better look at it. His face seemed to glow as he gazed down at it. "I wonder what she's doing right now?" He mused to himself with a faint smile. His expression then faded to something more serious. "I wonder… if she ever thinks about me?"

If the questions were presented to Koneko, she appeared to pay no notice and focused instead on intense grooming of her left front paw. Giroro sighed deeply and lowered his head. "Maybe I am a fool," he commented sadly. "But," he whispered, now addressing the picture before him, "Still, I will always love you."

He pressed his lips to the photograph in a gentle kiss, then placed it back in its secret place on his belt. A few moments later, he extinguished the fire and retired to his tent with Koneko. The night was empty and still.

Natsumi, however, didn't move. Her heart was pounding so loud she could hear the blood pumping in her ears. It had never occurred to her that Giroro may have been in love, and now that this fact had been thrown in her face so suddenly, she felt… well, there was no other word for it. She was disappointed. The Keronians had been living in their house for just over four years now, and she had suspected throughout most of that time that Giroro had liked her. It wasn't _that_ unusual of an assumption to make. After all, he blanched and stuttered and basically became stupid every time that she touched him… he went to extreme lengths to make her happy or defend her name… and not to mention the numerous times that he'd nearly died trying to ensure her safety…

She realized that she was biting her lip so hard that she was losing circulation. Releasing it, she lay back down in bed trying to sort out her thoughts. The notion occurred to her that maybe it was _her_ picture that he kept in his belt. She frowned. No… there was something sorrowful, something… unrequited in the way he'd spoken to its subject. She couldn't imagine him speaking to her in a voice like that.

The only answer she could think of was the one that seemed most obvious. Giroro must have been in love with a woman on Keron, a woman from whom he was now separated by half a universe with only a photograph of her to keep him going. It was tragic… and while she wanted to shed a tear for her emotionally troubled friend, she couldn't suppress the prickles of jealousy that were now crawling in her chest.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow she would talk to Giroro and try to find out more about this mysterious woman. For now, she would simply try to clear her mind and get back to sleep, but she had to resolve the issue before she could go any further.

Yes, studying would have to wait.


	2. Chapter 2

Morning came and Natsumi felt like she'd barely slept at all. Pressure from school was weighing on her like an anchor, and last night's events, while they now felt like a hazy dream, certainly hadn't helped her stress level. In the kitchen, her mother was rushing to get ready for work. Amazingly, Keroro was already up and helping her with the morning chores.

"Morning, Natsumi," she greeted around half of an energy bar that was sticking out of her mouth. She rarely had time to eat breakfast with them. "Ready for your last week of high school, kiddo?"

Natsumi managed a tired smile. "I'll be lucky if it isn't my last week of _life._ Exams are killing me."

Aki slung her bag over her shoulder and gave her daughter a reassuring kiss on the forehead. "You'll do fine, I'm sure of it. You always were a smart one." She smiled, then turned to hurry out the door. "Oh by the way, would you mind running by the store on your way home? We're almost out of everything. Thanks hon!"

The door slammed behind her, leaving Keroro and Natsumi alone in the kitchen. He glanced at her sideways and chuckled impishly to himself, "_Gero, gero, gero…_" She replied by fixing him with a death glare, under which he cowered and became quiet. After a few moments of tense silence, Fuyuki finally entered the room and lightened the mood. By the time Natsumi had eaten breakfast and gotten ready for school, she felt much better.

The day passed uneventfully. Koyuki's company relieved a good bit of the stress that Natsumi was feeling, and by the time she left the store at the end of the day, she had completely forgotten about what had happened the previous night.

Until she saw Giroro.

He and Keroro were in the living room, arguing loudly over what was obviously another of his ridiculous plans.

"…I'm telling you, I don't know anything about them!"

"But Giroro, don't you realize how important this is for the invasion? Even Natchii is weakened by their power…"

"Natsumi? What have they done to Natsumi?!"

"If you want to know… then you'll just have to find out more about these 'exams' and how they are used to control the Pokopenians, de arimasu! Just ask her once for me…"

Natsumi rolled her eyes and walked past, pretending not to notice them. It didn't work. "Oy, Natchii! Come in here and talk to me and Giroro for a second, de arimasu!"

She took one deep breath, oblivious to the fact that she was once again gnawing her lower lip. Giroro glanced up at her as she sat next to him, then turned away with a scowl. It may have been her imagination, but he seemed to be blushing a bit.

"Natchiii…." Keroro purred, his voice taking on a salesman-type quality. "Y'know, I've heard these 'exams' have really got you worked up. I just wanted to know a little bit about what they are, and if there's _anything_ I can do to…"

A massive explosion rocked the house, sending Keroro flying into Natsumi's lap. He immediately recovered and leapt to his feet, the panicked expression on his face akin to that of a cat that had just been thrown into a tub full of water.

"Wha--? Kururu!" He wailed as he raced down the hall toward headquarters. "What's going oooon?..."

Natsumi crossed her arms in frustration and sighed. "Y'know… normally I would go check to see what just happened, but I've almost gotten to the point of not caring what that stupid frog does."

Giroro grunted in agreement. "The fool has become completely incompetent. I'm surprised he hasn't started building his Gunpla with the heads on backward."

She giggled, then coughed to try and hide it. There were a few moments of nervous silence, then Natsumi spoke tentatively. "Giroro… um… well… I guess…" She paused, realizing that it wasn't going well. She took a deep breath and tried again. "What I'm trying to say is, do you… do you have a… a girlfriend?"

Giroro was so stunned by the question that he nearly fell backward. Of all the things he had thought she would say at that moment, that certainly wasn't one of them. In fact, the idea of her asking him that was so absurd that he nearly wanted to laugh out loud. Why in the world would she think that he, of all people, would have a girlfriend?

"M-me? A girlfriend?" He managed. "Natsumi, why…" He stopped, not entirely sure he wanted to know the answer. "No," he answered, "no, of course I don't have a girlfriend!"

Natsumi nodded and sat back, the corner of her lips curving slightly in a contemplative frown. She'd known the answer before she even asked, of course, and she also knew the answer to the one she was about to ask.

"Well… is there… is there anyone that you _like_? I mean, someone you might _want_ to be with, or… or…" Her voice trailed off. Although it was a casual enough topic for two friends to talk about – she and Koyuki chatted about boys all the time, after all – she had an uncomfortable feeling that the last question had been too bold.

Giroro paled, scrambling to think of an answer, when something occurred to him that made him feel sick. As long as he'd known her, Natsumi had been romantically interested in Mutsumi Saburo. Now, something was clearly bothering her about romance, and there was no doubt in his mind who it was about. He felt his insides sink like lead weight. The one and only love of his life had come to him… for relationship advice.

"Natsumi…" He had to be strong. She needed him right now, and he desperately wanted to come through for her. "I… yes. There is someone. Someone that I have loved for a very long time…" He paused, trying to keep from shaking. "I never told her. And… and it was the worst mistake I could have made. There's nothing I regret more…"

He stopped, feeling Natsumi's hand on his shoulder. He hadn't realized until he looked up at her that tears were leaking from his eyes.

"It's okay, Giroro. You don't have to…" She felt terrible for having dredged up so many painful memories. In her mind, she was now certain that the woman he loved was someone he had left behind many years ago when he came to Earth. All she could do now was be supportive and caring.

Giroro sighed and leaned into her, trying unsuccessfully to will the tears to stop. Despite himself, he couldn't help but enjoy feeling her arms wrap around him, pulling him closer. She was warm, soft, wonderful. "Natsumi," he whispered, "thank you."

She shook her head. "That's what friends are for."

He put his own arms around her, holding her as if she were the only thing keeping him stable. He rested his head against her shoulder, forcing himself to say the words.

"I'll always be your friend, Natsumi."


	3. Chapter 3

"Gentlemen," Keroro cackled, rubbing his hands together eagerly, "today I will propose to you an invasion plan that is guaranteed to bring us success, de arimasu!"

"Ku ku ku!," Kururu chuckled as he reached under the table and scratched another mark in his tally of the times Keroro had said those same fruitless words. The three other Keronians at the table didn't even look up.

"Yes," continued the Sergeant, unfazed, "it appears that even the most imposing of Pokopenians, the one known as Natsumi, is vulnerable to these things known as 'exams.' They apparently cause symptoms of physical and mental stress. In fact, Natsumi believes that she may not live to the end of the week because of them, de arimasu!"

A tearful-eyed Tamama suddenly looked up from the puzzle book he'd been working on. "Natchii's gonna die? I don't want Natchii to die!"

Giroro snorted. "No, she isn't. That fool doesn't know what he's saying."

"I heard it myself, from her own lips, de arimasu!" Keroro protested. "Her exact words were…"

"Keroro," interrupted Kururu, his eyes focused on his computer screen and his fingers typing furiously.

"…no, no, no. She didn't say that at all, she said…"

"_Keroro,"_ Kururu insisted a bit more forcefully, "my post-atmosphere radar has picked up a reading. I think you should see it."

The other members of the platoon weren't used to seeing Kururu so serious. An uneasy silence settled into the room before Keroro finally spoke.

"Show me."

Kururu nodded and hoisted the laptop onto the table. His expression was unreadable as he turned the screen to face them. "You recognize this ship, do you not?"

Everyone froze. The air in the room had gone deathly still, pierced by a chill that seemed to numb the passage of time itself. Even the sound of breathing halted as they beheld the image before them. They did recognize it; anyone from any planet besides Pokopen would recognize it. The stifling veil of silence that had accumulated in the room – laced with fear and so thick it was nearly tactile – was finally rent as Giroro found his tongue loosened enough to utter one word. The sound of it sent a unified shiver through the room.

"Greaves."

Another long silence passed, broken eventually by Dororo. Even the normally-placid assassin had a slight tremor to his voice as he expressed what everyone else in the room was feeling.

"God help us all…"

* * *

"So it's clear that they mean for an invasion, then?"

It was more of a statement than a question. Ever since Kururu had discovered Greave ships just outside of Pokopen's orbit, the other Keronians had noticed a change coming over their leader. He was reverting back to the single-minded military strategist that he had once been, and the platoon couldn't have been more relieved for it. Keroro hadn't become platoon leader for nothing; they would need all the strength they could get for what was about to come.

"Unquestionably," answered Kururu, his computer now hooked up to the wall monitor so they could all view the advancements. "Their ships number in the tens of thousands, and each ship can hold tens of thousands of Greaves themselves."

"So…" piped up Tamama, "that means there are… at least…"

"…one hundred million Greaves headed our way," finished Giroro, his voice barely above a growl. "And they mean to destroy Pokopen."

Keroro merely grunted noncommittally, his eyes never leaving the screen. Finally he spoke, his voice authoritative and certain.

"Our first priority is to evacuate, de arimasu."

The other platoon members gaped. "Ke-keroro!" Dororo exclaimed, "You can't really mean to abandon Earth…"

Keroro silenced him with a stern look. "Lance Corporal Dororo, I will hear nothing of it. Pokopen belongs to the Keroro Platoon, de arimasu! As the conquering invaders of this planet, we will defend what is rightfully ours until the death, de arimasu!"

All of the platoon members looked at him with admiration, with the exception of Kururu, who was still working like mad on his computer. Turning, he barked orders at his platoon members while pacing furiously. "Private Second Class Tamama! Put out a transmission to the Keron Army notifying them of the situation. Request reinforcements and notify them that five… no, six… Keronian refugees are being sent home to Keron, de arimasu! Corporal Giroro and Lance Corporal Dororo! You are to round up as quickly as possible the following Pokopenians: Fuyuki, Natsumi, and Aki Hinata, Momoka Nishizawa, Koyuki Azumaya, and Mutsumi Saburo! Report back no later than sixteen-hundred hours, de arimasu! Sergeant Major Kururu! You are to develop a means of converting the six said Pokopenians into the form of Keronians! This mission is also to be accomplished no later than sixteen-hundred hours, de arimasu! I will personally stay here and monitor the situation as it progresses. Well, there you have it. Soldiers… dismissed!"

"Aye, aye!," the platoon saluted in unison, except for Kururu, who merely chuckled "Ku ku ku!" before resuming his work. Confidence had been restored, however briefly, among the platoon.

* * *

Giroro and Dororo stepped outside and looked around uneasily. It was a perfect day; a slight breeze ruffled the leaves of the nearby treetops and offset the warmth of the sun as it shone against a perfectly clear sky. No one could guess from the atmosphere that hell was about to descend on the unsuspecting inhabitants of this planet.

It was early in the afternoon, so it would be difficult getting all of their subjects together was going to be difficult. Fuyuki, Natsumi, Momoka and Koyuki were still at school, Aki was at work, and Mutsumi could have been about anywhere.

"Dororo," Giroro finally said. "You go find Aki and try to convince her to take off of work. Try to find… Saburo… while you're at it." He ground his teeth in disgust; mentioning Mutsumi's name had left a bad taste in his mouth. "I'll go find the other four and round them up as school lets out. Oh, and Dororo," he added, pausing briefly for emphasis, "don't let them know what our plans are for them. If Natsumi knew she would certainly never agree to it. In fact, I don't think any of them would be willing to leave their planet in a time of danger, but Natsumi especially can be very… _emphatic_."

Dororo nodded, understanding full well how dangerous the pink-haired warrior could be when angered. "I understand. Good luck, Giroro," he said before vanishing into the trees.


	4. Chapter 4

"Agh! Ow! Let go of us, you stupid frog!"

Keroro circled the six people who were tied up before him, pausing to lean in close to Natsumi with a mischievous grin. "Not today, Natchii! Today you have no choice but to do as I say, de arimasu! Sergeant Major Kururu, the machine, if you please!"

Natsumi turned to Giroro with tears in her eyes. "Giroro… why? What's going on?"

Giroro tore his eyes away from her, mentally berating himself for having given the Pokopenians over to Keroro upon bringing them to the household. "I am truly sorry Natsumi… but it is for your own good."

"Hey, Gunsou," piped up Fuyuki, "if you wanted another adventure, I would've gone without you having to tie me up."

"I agree with Fuyuki-kun," said Koyuki with a meek smile, "but… I trust Dororo to do the right thing."

Chatter broke out among the six of them, with the exception of Momoka. She had been strapped in next to Fuyuki, and in this position his arm was pressed against hers in a position that neither of them could move from. She rolled her eyes and sighed blissfully. She could die happy right now…

The talking immediately ceased as Kururu emerged into the room with a large contraption that resembled a drumset connected to a giant bell-jar. The glass dome descended over the six of them, and Kururu began fiddling away with various knobs and dials on each of the "drums" on the contraption. Finally, he looked up at them and grinned enthusiastically.

"I push."

Natsumi braced herself, then found herself engulfed in a dazzling spectrum of light. Her entire body felt like it had been doused in a cool, viscous liquid that seemed to cling to her very skin and become part of her. Her first impulse was that this must be what it was like in the cockpit of an Eva, but then again her head was spinning and she wasn't quite thinking clearly. After several moments her vision began to return and she felt more stable, but the cool wetness hadn't subsided, and her body felt… different. She could see now, but something was wrong. The room had gotten taller, or maybe she'd gotten smaller…

Looking down, she blinked in confusion. Then, it dawned on her what she was looking at.

Everyone else in the room winced as she emitted a bloodcurdling scream. She turned her eyes to Keroro with murderous intent. "You… you turned us into… _you turned me into a STUPID FROG!_"

Keroro's eyes shrank to the size of two tiny black dots, and with the kind of heroism one would expect of a valiant platoon leader, he turned and dashed out the door, locking it behind him.

The other five former Humans looked at themselves with awe and delight, having been released from their bonds. "Wow, mom, look at me!" Fuyuki exclaimed, spinning around to admire his new body. Aki smiled, but was too busy admiring her own Keronian self to look too closely at her son. "It's a shame I have to miss work… but this is just so much fun!"

Natsumi, trying to ignore the urge to admire herself like the others were doing, sat down and fumed silently. Giroro, on the other hand, had found that the only thing he was capable of doing was admiring her. True, he had always considered her the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on, but now her beauty had transcended to a whole new level. She far exceeded every standard of perfection that he had ever envisioned in Keronian females. He felt now something new: desire. He wanted to take her in his arms and caress every inch of her, using his hands and mouth to give this goddess before him the worship she so deserved.

_Calm down, Giroro!_ He inwardly berated himself. _This isn't the time for that!_

He closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing, but her picture just kept popping back up into his mind. After several long minutes, he finally managed to regain most of his composure and opened his eyes. He knew he had to talk to her.

He approached her tentatively, making sure not to look directly at her. "N-Natsumi…" he stammered, unable to control how hard he was shaking. "I know you're angry… but… i-if you want to hit someone… you can hit me."

He hadn't been looking at her, so he hadn't expected to suddenly find himself doubled over on the floor with the wind knocked out of him. She had taken him up on his offer, and gladly. "Natsu… mi…" he gasped, but was interrupted by a powerful kick that sent him into a fetal position.

"So, 'I'll always be your friend,' huh?" She screeched, bending over him furiously. "What kind of 'friend' deceives someone like that? Ties them up, shoots them with some ray gun, and turns them into another species, all for the sake of invading their home planet?!"

She paused, and Giroro felt something wet and hot splash against his face. Natsumi was standing over him, tears dropping unabashedly from her cheeks. "I thought you were different from _him_…" she whispered before turning away in disgust.

A solemn silence fell over the room as Natsumi crossed back over and sat down in a corner with her head in her hands. Finally, the tension was broken by Dororo, who addressed Aki with an apologetic bow.

"Aki… everyone… I feel that it is time you knew the truth. It is an ugly truth, a painful truth, but you deserve to know…"

He explained what had taken place at the meeting the previous night. He told them about the Greaves and the nature of the threat with which Earth was now presented. He unveiled to them their plans of calling in Keronian reinforcements and staying behind to hold off the Greaves until that help arrived.

"…and so that is why we turned you into Keronians, so that you can seek shelter on Keron until the threat here has been eliminated. Our platoon ship has been readied for your departure; although it was only intended to man five, the six of you can manage until you reach Keron. Ultimately, it is your own decision whether or not you choose to evacuate. While we do wish to protect you, we realize that we cannot force you to stay against your will. However… please know that if you stay here, your fate is sealed. The Greaves are merciless, ruthless killers, and your deaths will be gruesome, drawn-out, and extremely painful. I can assure you of it."

The impact of his words was apparent. Aki had gone pale, clutching Fuyuki and Momoka so tightly that her knuckles were shaking. Koyuki had moved across the room and was clinging fearfully to Natsumi, whose expression was a mixture of shock and guilt. Even Mutsumi seemed at a loss for words.

It was Aki who finally spoke. "Come on kids," she said weakly, "let's do as they say."


	5. Chapter 5

A low, ubiquitous rumble shook the Hinata house, causing everyone to freeze in their tracks. The door creaked open and Keroro emerged, his expression solemn. "The first enemy ships are approaching Earth's atmosphere. How are the preparations coming?"

Tamama looked up from equipping Momoka with a Keronian-style aviator hat, his large eyes brimming with tears. "Gunsou, the Pokopenians have been equipped with their gear and instructed by Kururu on navigating the platoon ship. They should be r-ready to l-leave any… time… now… WAAAAH!" He burst into tears, clinging to Momoka. "I'll miss you Momotchii!"

Natsumi bit her lip and glanced over at Giroro. He was still on the ground, nursing his physical and emotional wounds. Upon meeting her eyes, he quickly turned away. A surge of guilt made her face grow hot, but she looked away and said nothing.

The atmosphere was heavy as the six of them proceeded to follow Keroro outside to where the ship was waiting. Natsumi's eyes went immediately to the sky, and her breath froze. It was now nearing twilight, and against the fading orange glow of the setting sun she could see hundreds of shadowy forms suspended above them. They were still too far away to make out, but that didn't stop the fear that their presence kindled within her. Even from here, they were terrifying.

Natsumi glanced over her shoulder and saw Giroro walking silently near the back of the procession. She dropped back next to him. "Giroro… I'm sorry… I really am…"

He let out a long breath, relieved that things weren't going to end badly between them. "No. Don't be sorry, Natsumi. Don't ever be sorry."

There was a moment of conciliatory silence between the two of them before Natsumi spoke. She'd been haunted by a certain question ever since Dororo's explanation and now, even though she feared the answer, she couldn't bring herself to hold back any longer.

"Giroro," she asked softly, "what will happen to the rest of you?"

He inhaled sharply, feeling a familiar prickling at the corner of his eyes. _Be strong,_ he told himself. _She needs you to be strong._

"Keron soldiers in general are well-versed in siege warfare. We will call in Moa and Paul to headquarters, where we will hold all of our initial operations. There, we'll be well fortified against their attacks, and our weapons stockpiles will allow us a sufficient means of staving them off until the Keron Army arrives with reinforcements."

"Once that happens," Natsumi interrupted, "will you be returning to Keron?"

Giroro swallowed, choosing his words carefully. He didn't want to lie to her, but at the same time he couldn't bring himself to tell her the truth: that the two of them would never be seeing each other again.

"No, Natsumi. The platoon and I… will stay here and fight."

She immediately stopped, her eyes flashing with the fierce, determined spirit that he loved so much about her. "Then I'm staying too! I won't go and run away while you guys are staying here risking your lives…"

"Natsumi!" His voice reflected something close to panic as he spun around to face her. "I cannot let you say things like that! You are going to Keron with your family, and that's final!"

Everyone turned to watch as she set her jaw stubbornly and planted her feet into the ground. "I'm not a child, so stop treating me like one! I can take care of myself! Besides, if you guys think you can make it through this invasion just fine, then there's no reason that I can't too!"

"Sis…," Fuyuki said softly, his eyes pleading for her to understand.

She looked around and, suddenly, she did understand. All of the platoon members had gone silent, looking off elsewhere to avoid meeting her gaze. The mood had shifted to a sadness that bordered on funereal. Her eyes grew wide at the realization.

"You… you don't intend to… make it through, do you?" She choked.

Giroro sighed, unable to deny it. "Natsumi," he whispered, "it's time for you to get on the ship."

Natsumi blinked, feeling like she was sleepwalking as she made her way to the transport. All around her, little frog aliens were hugging and crying and saying their goodbyes; it was like some kind of bizarre dream, and she couldn't wait to wake up from it.

Finally, the others finished saying goodbye and began filing one-by-one through the door of the ship. Mutsumi stopped and stood beside her, his lazy grin looking very forced. "Y'okay?"

"Mm." It was the only thing she could manage without bursting into tears.

Everyone was inside now. The engine whirred to life, signaling that the ship would be departing any moment now. Out of the corner of her eye, Natsumi saw Dororo fixing a tearful Koyuki with a tender goodbye kiss and felt her face flush with surprise.

"Natsumi…"

She hadn't heard Giroro come up beside her. Turning to face him, she suddenly found herself in a tight embrace. She trembled, no longer trying to stop the tears that coursed down her face. She felt warm and secure in his strong arms, and she never wanted him to let go. Even if they died in that position while the whole world burned around them, she never wanted to let go.

"Giroro," she sobbed into his chest, and he shushed her reassuringly.

She felt his hand slide down her arm and take her own. He pressed something small and hard into her palm and wrapped her fingers around it. "In case you need it," he whispered in her ear.

He painfully tore himself from her arms, still urging himself to be strong for her. There was one more thing that needed to be done. Turning, he fixed Mutsumi with a meaningful look.

"Saburo... take care of her."

It wasn't what he said. It was the way he said it. It was the sadness in his voice, a certain unrequited sorrow that she immediately recognized, that caused her knees to buckle and ripped a cry of anguish from her throat. The realization that Giroro loved her had hit her like a tsunami, and it took both Mutsumi and Koyuki to restrain her as she fought madly to go after him.

"Giroro!" She half-screamed, half-sobbed as the door closed between them and their eyes met for the final time. "Giroro, no! Girorooo!..."


	6. Chapter 6

Beneath the Hinata household, the five members of the Keroro Platoon, along with Paul and Moa, had sealed themselves into the war room in preparation of the invasion. Giroro, due to his current emotional turmoil, had nearly forgotten Koneko; fortunately, Moa reminded him at the last minute and he rushed to bring her in. Everyone was accounted for. Meanwhile, Keroro had turned back into a commanding war machine. He stood at the head of the table, watching the platoon ship disappear from radar as Kururu remotely activated the stealth system; satisfied that everything was going to plan, he turned to the others and addressed them.

"Gentlemen!... er, and Lady… as difficult as it is to say goodbye to our friends and allies, we now stand ready to make the greatest achievement of our lifetimes, de arimasu! Years from now, we will look back with pride at remembering how we, a lone platoon, were able to fend off a Greave invasion and save an entire planet, de arimasu!"

Giroro groaned. "Keroro… why beat around the bush? We all know that we won't be around 'years from now.' You might as well call this what it is: a last stand."

Keroro's eyes narrowed into two slits. He moved over to where Giroro was seated and, in one swift motion, laid him out on the floor with a powerful blow. The Corporal groaned in surprise as he rolled over; he'd really taken a lot of beatings today.

"Corporal Giroro!," Keroro barked, glaring down at him. "From now on, such talk will be considered an act of treason, de arimasu! We will not die today, nor tomorrow, nor a week from now, nor any time at all at the hands of the Greaves, de arimasu! Do you know why? It's because we are the Keroro Platoon, de arimasu! Even if our bodies are torn to shreds fighting the Greaves, we will never lose our spirit, de arimasu! We will fight until not a single Greave is left alive on this planet, and if we find ourselves at the gates of Hell, we will fight the Devil himself, de arimasu! Do you understand me, Corporal Giroro?!"

Giroro lifted his head, his eyes shining with a newfound admiration for the Sergeant. Jumping to his feet, he saluted fiercely. "Understood, Keroro! I will fight to the death to avoid dying!"

Keroro nodded his satisfaction, then addressed the platoon once more. "From here, I will give you all your preliminary instructions. Sergeant Major Kururu! You are responsible for monitoring the outside situation and reporting to me any updates and advances in the enemy position, de arimasu! Private Second Class Tamama! You will be responsible for communications with the Keron fleet, as well as the monitoring and upkeep of our defensive structures, de arimasu! Corporal Giroro! You will be in charge of the monitoring and upkeep of weapons stockpiles, de arimasu! Lance Corporal Dororo! You and Paul-sama are responsible for ensuring minimal civilian casualties - go out and secure as many structures as you can before the Greaves commence their attacks, de arimasu! Lady Moa! Your Lucifer Spear will be a key element in our fight against the Greaves - I will deliver further instructions to you after the others have delivered their data and I have planned out my method of attack, de arimasu! Any questions? No? Then, soldiers… dismissed!"

"Aye, aye!," six enthusiastic voices responded in unison.

* * *

An unshakable silence pervaded the inside of the platoon ship as it crept past the enemy under cover of the stealth system; after all, there is only so much one can say when they find their entire lives turned upside down in the course of a single day. Aki manned the cockpit, although she seemed to be focusing more on her children than the control panel. Momoka appeared on the verge of breaking into tears or flying into an explosive rage at any given moment – she even seemed unconscious of Fuyuki's reassuring arm around her. Koyuki had cried herself to sleep, her head resting in Natsumi's lap, and if Natsumi had the strength left to cry anymore, she would have probably done the same.

"Oy, Natsumi-san. I saw him give you something before he left. What was it?"

She jumped a little at the sound of Mutsumi's voice. The object was still grasped tightly in her hand, though with all that had happened she had forgotten it completely. Opening her fingers, it was revealed to be the skull insignia that Giroro wore on his cap. It was also the source of the anti-barrier that allowed him to become invisible. _In case you need it…_

Her vision became blurred once more, and Mutsumi leaned over with a look of genuine concern. " 'The most difficult invader to escape is the one that conquers the heart.' You wanna talk about it?" She shook her head. Maybe later, but right now she just wanted to be alone with her thoughts. The interior fell into silence once more.

Finally, Aki stood and looked around her. The rest of the passengers glanced up at her, having the feeling they were about to receive an inspirational mom-speech. They were not wrong. "So," she said, "who else thinks it sucks that we're stuck here running away while our friends stay home and die?" She watched as every one of them raised their hand sadly. Koyuki blinked as she awoke and lifted her head slightly to look. "And," continued Aki, "who else wishes that we could go back and stay with our friends, no matter what happens?" Once again, every hand in the room was in the air. Aki stood in thought for a second, then smiled and gave them a playful wink. "Alright then! Now, the stealth system on the ship has been activated, so our friends back on earth can't see what's happening to us right now. The only problem is, this ship was designed for five. So that means that there are six of us, and only five escape pods."

The other five glanced at each other and grinned as they realized where General Mom was going. Fuyuki paused, looking skeptical. "Um… mom? Are you sure there are escape pods on this thing?"

"Of course there are!" She retorted. "Haven't you ever watched any movies? All space ships have escape pods!"

Everyone seemed satisfied with this answer, but then there was one issue that remained unanswered. "So…," asked Momoka, looking around uneasily, "which of us is going to stay behind?"

There were a few moments of pensive silence, then Mutsumi spoke. "I'll do it," he said, rising to his feet. "I've got an idea."

He slid into the cockpit and began working furiously at the control panel. "What is it, Saburo-san?," asked Fuyuki. Mutsumi turned and grinned at him mischievously.

"I'm overriding Kururu's remote controls. From here, I'll be able to pilot the ship while keeping contact with you guys in the escape pods. That way I can coordinate your landings in case you get separated." He turned back to the control panel, not taking his eyes off his work as he continued to speak. "Once you guys have landed successfully, I'll follow in this thing and let our boys back at headquarters know what's up. With any luck, by the time we get back it'll be too late for them to do anything about it." He grinned once more and shook his head. "They're not gonna be happy about it though."

Natsumi leapt to her feet. Excitement was welling up inside her at the thought of returning to Earth and fighting for her planet, but mostly at the prospect of getting to see Giroro one more time. Even if she died, it would be worth it. Just ten minutes earlier, she felt she would have died anyway if things had to go unresolved like this.

Aki smiled at her daughter and shook her head in mock disappointment. "I must say, I was looking forward to getting to see an alien planet. It would've made for a great story. Alright everyone… let's get back to Earth!"


	7. Chapter 7

Giroro stood before Keroro and delivered a detailed account of the base's weapons stockpiles. He hadn't needed to write anything down – when it came to weapons, he was a walking database. Keroro nodded and listened, mentally making notes.

"Good job, Corporal," he stated as Giroro finished, then turned to Dororo and Paul. "And the two of you? What can you report on the situation outside?"

"We've secured any areas around us that would be in immediate danger of collateral damage from our offensive," replied Dororo, "but the Greave ships have gotten closer by the hour. It has become too dangerous for us to go out any more."

"By now, many humans have started noticing the ships and are starting to panic," Paul interjected. "We were having a difficult time controlling them, so I notified the Nishizawa private militia to patrol the city and make sure people seek shelter. It was all we could do."

Keroro nodded and gave them a neat salute. "Good job soldiers. I will work with your information and notify you when I have finalized the battle plan, de arimasu. Dismissed!"

As soon as the three of them had exited the room, Giroro was surprised to feel a comforting hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Dororo, who looked at him searchingly for a few moments. "You look downcast."

Giroro merely grunted. Of course he was downcast. Who wouldn't be in a situation like this?

Dororo frowned and continued to gaze at him for a few moments. Finally he spoke. "Tell me, Giroro… who are you thinking about right now? Natsumi? Or Kalili?"

Giroro looked up at his comrade, taken aback. Not surprisingly, no one in the platoon had dared mention the name of Second Lieutenant Kalili until now. No one had had to. It went without saying in times like this.

He turned, eager to get away from the uncomfortable line of conversation. "Both," he admitted. "Mostly because I'm thinking how glad I am that Natsumi won't be ending up like… that."

* * *

"Attention, soldiers! This is your captain speaking…"

Natsumi grinned broadly and wiggled with excitement as Mutsumi's voice spoke directly into her mind. Now _this _was like piloting an Eva! Keronian escape pods were nothing like she'd expected; clearly Kerons didn't believe in running away during a battle, because they were built to function like individual fighting units. She was submerged completely in an oxygenated liquid that not only acted as a life-support system but allowed her to command the unit and communicate with the others using only brainwaves. She mentally reminded herself to try not to think about anything embarrassing.

_Fuyuki_… _you there?_

The system must have had a bit of a lag, because a few seconds passed before the reply came.

_Yeah! This is awesome!_

She snickered, then addressed Mutsumi.

_Hey, 'Captain.' How about letting us see where we're going?_

The reply came momentarily.

_Roger that, Natchii._

The unit hummed slightly as the visor began to rise and emit a view of the outside. Natsumi froze as she beheld it, her eyes widening slowly with shock and fear.

So these were the Greave ships.

There must have been thousands of them. From the ground they had resembled merely black dots high above the ground, but from up close they looked like twisted, monstrous barbed-wire coils that flashed at intervals with raw electricity. One could only image the kind of creatures that would create ships like this, and – even worse – the numbers of these creatures that were contained with the thousands of gigantic vessels now orbiting Earth.

Natsumi shivered, then took a deep breath.

_You ready for this, Fuyuki?_

This time, several minutes passed before he finally replied.

_Let's do it, sis._

* * *

Keroro finally emerged from the war room with Mois in his stead. For the last fifteen minutes that they were in there, Tamama had looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel in his head, but now that he could see both of them – and what they were doing together – again, he reverted back to simply grinding his teeth and glaring. The rest of the group looked up at their leader with anticipation.

"Gentlemen," he began, "I have received notification that the Keron Army has finished preparing a fleet, and should be arriving within 48 hours, de arimasu. Until then, all we have to do is hold them off." He paused. "This means, of course, that we will be trying to keep them from landing, de arimasu. Once the Greaves have exited their ships we will have almost zero chance of stopping them, so it is crucial that we prevent this from happening until the Keron Army arrives and can engage them in aerial combat, de arimasu."

A panel in the floor opened up, revealing a blackboard detailing his plan of attack. "We have in our possession two weapons capable of destroying Pokopen," he said and motioned to Mois, who smiled proudly at the high priority her Lucifer Spear was given, "and eight weapons capable of taking out an entire continent. Each of these weapons should be sufficient to take out a single ship on their own, perhaps two, de arimasu."

He pulled out what looked like a toy magic wand with a 'Henry Potto' logo toward the bottom. "Here," he said, motioning to the diagram with the wand, "is our base. We will strategically position our weapons at various points throughout the city so that they won't know where to target us, de arimasu. At the park entrance… at the library… down by the boardwalk…"

He continued to outline the various points and which function they would serve. When he had finished, he looked back to his subordinates. "You are to go out and plant the weapons in said areas, along with a remote trigger that Kururu will activate when you have all arrived back at Headquarters, de arimasu. The exception to this is the Lucifer Spear, which will have to be handled personally by Mois. This is very risky operation, as the Greaves will almost certainly issue a counter-strike as soon as they are fired upon, which is why it is imperative that everyone be as efficient and accurate as possible, de arimasu. Any questions?" He waited for a response, then saluted. "Alright, men… the gods of Keron and Pokopen be with you. Dismissed!"


	8. Chapter 8

When Giroro returned to Headquarters, he saw that the others had already returned. He and Paul had been responsible for two weapons apiece, and both of his weapons were on opposite sides of town. He panted slightly as he regained his breath.

"Mission accomplished… Keroro…"

The Sergeant frowned as if he hadn't seen him come in. He was facing the monitor and muttering to Kururu under his breath. Giroro listened closely and was able to make out the words, "…can't do anything to restore it?"

"No," replied Kururu quietly, "it seems that Saburo-sama has completely overridden my controls. Gotta give the kid some credit, _ku ku ku_!"

Paul and Dororo had also noticed the secretive conversation that was taking place between the two of them. They caught sight of Giroro's expression and decided to make a move as a whole.

"Keroro," said Paul, stepping forward, "is everything alright with Lady Momoka?"

"…and the others," added Dororo, as if they needed to be reminded.

Their leader continued to stare with a look of concern at the monitor before him. "I… do not know yet. When Sergeant Major Kururu went to remotely deactivate the stealth sensors on the platoon ship, he was unable to do so. It seems that the Pokopenians are controlling the ship themselves, de arimasu."

He gazed at the screen a few more moments, then seemed to snap out of his reverie as if remembering their mission. "But that can wait until later! All members are now accounted for, de arimasu. Sergeant Major, when you are ready, please activate the remote sensors, de arimasu!"

Kururu placed his finger on the trigger button, the stopped abruptly. He waited several minutes and then stated, "I believe the sensors will have to wait for the time being." He turned to them, his face bearing a look that was both contemplative and bemused.

"I have just received a radio transmission from Saburo-san bearing the ground coordinates of the escape pods. Our friends, it seems, are still out there."

* * *

Angol Moa stood in front of the park fountain waiting impatiently for the signal to strike. By now it was well into the morning, but the enemy ships were so close that they blotted out the sun, causing the feel of perpetual night. Shivering, she gripped her Lucifer Spear and looked around her. What was taking so long?

The sound of someone coming up behind her caused her to jump and whirl around with the Lucifer Spear at ready. "Who's there?"

"Moa-chan… is that you?!"

The sight of Natsumi emerging from the darkness – as a Keronian, no less – caused Moa to drop her weapon and squeak in surprise. "Natsumi-san! What are you doing here? Uncle will be very unhappy. You could say… directly disobeying orders?"

Natsumi sighed with relief at the sight of a friendly face. "That stupid frog is the least of my worries right now." She smiled, trying to put the other girl at ease. "Don't worry, Moa-chan. We came back because we didn't want to leave you guys to fight by yourselves."

Moa nodded, but didn't really seem to be paying attention. "Natsumi… do you hear that?"

Natsumi went silent and listened carefully. At first, she didn't hear anything, but after several seconds a sound reached her ears – a distinct, high-pitched screeching sound that could only be coming from the sky. "Wh-what is that? Moa?"

The Angol retrieved her spear from the ground without taking her eyes off of the sky. "One is opening," she whispered, "we can no longer wait for the signal." She turned briefly. "Natsumi… cover your eyes."

Natsumi wanted to do as she commanded, but found herself unable to tear her eyes from the scene. Moa hoisted the giant Lucifer Spear above her head as if it were made of paper, pointing it at the nearest ship and uttering the words that were originally prophesied for the destruction of Earth.

"Hellmargeddon!"

A streaming bolt of white-hot lightening burst from the end of the Lucifer Spear and snaked its way into the heavens. Natsumi didn't see it make contact with the ship, but she did see the kaleidoscope that resulted from a thousand pieces of metal and glass being ripped apart by forces greater than nature could produce. She began to feel the rumble of the approaching shockwave, and the only thing that tore her gaze from the destruction above her was Moa pulling desperately at her arm in retreat.

"Come on, Natsumi! We must get out quickly!"

Without thinking twice, Natsumi turned and ran after her with all her might. She heard debris crashing around her and saw the resulting explosions in her peripheral vision, but she didn't dare close her eyes or try to protect herself for fear that it would slow her down. Through her ragged breathing she could hear Moa crying out in panic.

"Oh, no! Noo! They know we're here! They're coming, Natsumi! Run! _Run!_"

She didn't have to urge her any harder. Natsumi began instinctively running harder than she ever had, driven by blind terror of a foe she'd never even seen. She barely felt the exploding pain in her side that was telling her to slow down; all that registered in her mind was fear.

Having not been paying attention to her surroundings, she suddenly found herself crashing into someone and doubled over, rasping for breath. Moa had stopped dead in front of her, and when the two of them collided she barely moved at all. It was like fear had turned her body to stone. Looking around her, Natsumi saw why.

Her throat seized shut, wanting to scream but unable to produce sound. However horrible she had imagined the Greaves to be, her mind was only able to predict a fraction of the spectacle before her now. It was the physical manifestation of every nightmare she'd ever dreamed of – a grotesque mass of flesh and bile that seemed to ooze in pockets around a framework of semi-exposed bone. When it opened its mouth its entire head split in half, revealing rows of serrated teeth flanking a throat that descended into the blackness of an open grave. Everything about this creature – from the unnamable scythe-like appendages that protruded from its abdomen, to the fragments of victims' bodies that were stitched at intervals onto its very flesh, to the unbearable stench of decay that it emitted from every crevice – testified that it was made of death.

Natsumi was so entranced by the horror of the thing that she didn't even realize it when she choked and vomited. She had the vague sensation that she was falling head-first and felt her face collide with something warm and wet. Lights were flashing all around her, but the image of the Greave still filled her vision.

"Natsumi! Natsumiiii!"

A voice screamed in the distance and she smiled into the puddle of her disgorgement. A savior was coming, the messiah charging from the eastern skies atop a white horse, bringing judgment like thunder in her hour of need. Even in the midst of hell she recognized his voice, and the sound was all she needed to know she was saved.

"Giroro…," she whispered blissfully, before entering the sanctuary of oblivion.

* * *

He saw her fall.

With a howl like a deranged animal, Corporal Giroro flung himself among the enemy; there were four of five of them, each hideous enough to plunge a grown man into madness at the very sight of them, but the berserk warrior was in an altered state of consciousness and felt nothing. He was in and among them like liquid death, an almost untraceable flow of power that caused destruction at every ebb and turn.

"Natsumi! _Natsumi!!_"

It was as if the words were being torn from his throat by some outside force – a force that pleaded with him to take control of what shreds of sanity he still possessed. Her name was the only word he could manage at the moment, and he clung to it desperately, as if his very existence depended on it.

But his perilous dance with insanity was leading him deeper into a spiraling bloodlust that was too strong for him to manage. Throwing aside all weapons, he plunged into his enemy with a roar of savage delight. His body was the only weapon he needed – he _was_ death.

"Na… tsu… mi…"

It was too late. He had reached a level so deep that not even the thought of his beloved could save him, and as this final thread of coherency slid from his grasp, he emitted an otherworldly scream and succumbed to the madness within.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notice**: This chapter contains graphic descriptions of torture and death. If you have a weak stomach for this kind of thing, you can go ahead and skip this one - it's mostly background, so you shouldn't be terribly lost on the plot.

* * *

Natsumi groaned as awareness slowly began to trickle back into her. Her vision swam, and when she tried to sit up a wave of dizziness forced her back down.

"Shhh, Natsumi." It was her mother's voice. "Just lay back down and rest."

"Is she awake?" Someone whispered nearby, and Natsumi opened her eyes to see who it was. All around her were the Keronian forms of her family and friends. Even the stupid frog was there, his face reflecting concern for her well-being. She bit her lip in an attempt to keep the tears from forming in her eyes, moved that everyone cared so much for her. Yet, in spite of the reunion that was taking place around her, an uneasy sensation was gnawing at the back of her mind. Something didn't feel right.

"What's… uhh… what happened?" She cast a glance over the faces around her, then gasped and bolted upright, causing an intense wave of nausea. "Where is… Giroro…?" She gulped, clutching painfully at her side.

"No, no, Master Natsumi," cried Keroro, looking alarmed, "you musn't sit up yet! You are still very weak, de arimasu!"

Natsumi reached out and caught his throat in a vice grip, leaning in so close that he could see the flames flickering dangerously behind her eyes. "Don't patronize me, you stupid frog! I'm not so weak that I can't clobber you!..." She stopped and winced as another spell of nausea hit her, then took a deep breath and continued. "I know he was out there earlier. What happened?"

Tamama's eyes grew dangerously wide at the sight of his Sergeant being throttled by Natsumi, but Dororo stepped in and stopped a potentially volatile situation. "He is here, Natsumi, and he is fine." He paused, his eyes flickering with worry. "At least… he is fine physically. When Moa brought the two of you in, he was being restrained by the Lucifer Spear –otherwise, I'm certain he would have already killed you both. He took out four Greaves on his own, one with his bare hands – something no creature should be able to do. I am afraid of him, yes, even despite the heavy restraints we have placed him in, but… I am also afraid for him." A tear shone at the corner of one of his large eyes; the ninja had been childhood friends with Keroro and Giroro, and while the former had often exploited and bullied him, Giroro had genuinely been a good friend. "Natsumi… I believe we may have lost him."

Natsumi sat in silence for a few moments, allowing the numbing trickle of denial to slowly wash over the stinging blow reality had just dealt. Finally, she stood and looked him in the eye with an expression chiseled in granite. "I don't believe that," she stated flatly, turning her gaze to Keroro, who looked away uncomfortably. "You know him better than that – he'll never give up fighting. Besides, I saw those… _things _too, and I didn't lose my mind! They can't be all that…" She stopped, unable to say the words. Deep down, she knew that they _were _that bad, yet at the same time she felt that something else must have been going on.

Dororo could tell what she was feeling. "Keroro," he said, turning, "I believe I should speak to Natsumi alone for a few moments."

Keroro knew what was coming, and his enthusiasm was almost excessive as he began parading people away. "Alright soldiers, wars don't win themselves! Step lively now, left right left right!..."

When no one else was left in their vicinity, Dororo turned to her with a melancholy, distant expression. At first she was afraid that he was in "trauma mode," but he finally addressed her in a sad, but stable, voice. "I didn't want the others to hear what I'm about to tell you, and I'm certain Keroro didn't want to be reminded of it. It's about an event that occurred many years ago, between the end of the Keron War and the formation of the platoon.

"Back then, there were only the three of us – Keroro, Giroro, and I. All three of us had been in the war; we were young, and the things we witnessed during this period of real combat left lasting scars both physical and mental. At the time, we thought there could be nothing more horrific than a body riddled with bullets or embedded with shrapnel. Giroro had it the worst, as he was on the frontlines of battle and witnessed firsthand many good soldiers and friends being killed before his eyes.

"But one day, we happened upon something that turned that notion completely upside down. It was a discovery that made a stir all over Keron – people still talk of it to this day, with mingling fear and fascination – but the three of us have never spoken of it since. It started so innocently: Keroro, being a somewhat rebellious teenager at the time, had rallied us into sneaking off in one of his father's ships for a cruise around the west end of the galaxy. I objected, of course, but Keroro always managed to get his way.

"In a dead area just outside the rim of our solar system, we noticed a Keron ship that wasn't moving and was seemingly without power. We knew that to be stranded in outer space was a certain death sentence, and we didn't hesitate to make contact with them. God! – if only we knew what we'd find on that vessel!

"The smell was the first thing we noticed – the heavy, fetid stench of blood and decay – and we knew immediately that we shouldn't have come. Yet we couldn't bring ourselves to turn and run; we were entranced by the horrors we imagined lay within that abandoned vessel. When we _did_ find them, we wished it _had_ been our imaginations, because our terrified notions were only fragments of the brutal reality.

"We saw firsthand that day what the Greaves do to their victims. Of the five members of the platoon that had manned that ship, only one was alive. The other four had been systematically butchered while they still lived – actually, now that I think of it, there were two alive on that ship, because one was still moving when we found him; Giroro shot him and ended his misery. Their hands and feet had been removed, and the flesh that remained on their limbs stripped away and eaten. Their bellies had been slashed open and their intestines carefully removed so they could be tied to those of their companions. Finally, after the victims had been forced to watch it all, their eyes were cut out and pieces of their skull removed for the Greaves to wear as trophies."

Natsumi broke eye contact with him momentarily, feeling sick once more. Dororo frowned apologetically. "Shall I stop?"

She paused, then shook her head. "What about the other one?"

"Ah… Second Lieutenant Kalili. After many years of faithful service, she was in line to be promoted to First Lieutenant upon returning from the mission that proved to be her last. When we found her, she was unscathed and fully conscious, but incoherent – she had been forced to watch as the Greaves mutilated her friends before her. We rushed her back to Keron; throughout the entire trip, she said not a word, nor did she even acknowledge our presence. Upon her return she was inspected and found to be in perfect physical health, but was admitted to the psychiatric ward for obvious reasons…"

He stopped, clearly not wanting to proceed. After taking a deep breath, he continued, "…they found her body three days later. She had mutilated herself in the same fashion that the Greaves had done to her companions. She'd removed her left hand and both feet, and cannibalized the flesh off of the limbs, then used the splintered bone fragments to slash at her belly and eyes. And the very worst part of it was… when they found her, her disfigured face was fixed in a smile of twisted satisfaction."

He finished with a sigh, then looked up at her. "You see, Natsumi, that is why we cannot win against this enemy. Even if we have every advantage against them in physical combat, they have already beaten us psychologically. Giroro forfeited his sanity when he thought of what would happen if the Greaves ever caught you, and even with my years of meditation I have not been able to banish the demons that spring up within me when I think of those damnable creatures."

Natsumi looked away for several moments in deep thought as she tried to process what she'd just been told. Finally she stood and faced the assassin, and when she spoke her voice was calm and certain.

"If Giroro has lost the fight for his sanity, then I'll continue to fight for him. Take me to him."


	10. Chapter 10

Natsumi peered into the windowless room and was just able to distinguish the restrained form of Giroro. She turned to Keroro, who was unabashedly shaking. "Untie him," she ordered, "he isn't an animal."

Keroro shook his head and turned up his nose in defiance. "Nut-uh. Not until that door's closed again."

She once again felt the urge to wrap her fingers around his neck, but resigned with a sigh, deciding it wasn't worth it. "Listen, frog-breath. No matter what happens, no matter what you hear, do _not_ open that door, got it? I really think I can help him while I'm in there, but I'm pretty sure having an idiot like you around would be enough to drive anyone over the edge."

Keroro's wide eyes grew wet with tears, and Natsumi feared for a moment that she may have hurt his feelings. However, he abruptly threw his arms around her legs and began sobbing noisily against the ground. "Waaah, M-master Natsumi! It's s-so gallant of you, r-risking your life for my fr-friend Giroro! You are a t-true Keronian hero, de arimasu! Waaah hah hah…"

Natsumi reddened and pushed the despondent alien off her. "Hey! Is that anyway for a platoon leader to behave, blubbering like a child when Earth needs you? Don't worry about me or Giroro – go do your duty, soldier!"

Keroro sniffled up at her, his tear-filled eyes reflecting admiration and gratitude, before snapping upright into a full salute. "Aye aye, Master Natsumi! I will entrust our beloved corporal to your care and return to my commanding duties, de arimasu! Godspeed!"

Natsumi smiled, having realized that, at that moment, she didn't entirely hate him; he really did care about his friends, at least. She turned and looked once more into the shadow-filled room, drawing a deep breath before stepping inside.

* * *

He watched it enter, unmoving. Keronian, female, alone and unarmed. Too easy.

The restraints had fallen from him as his enemy approached. He had no gun, nor could he summon one, but he would not need one for something this pathetic. Standing, he drew back slightly and propelled himself like a slingshot in a full-speed frontal attack. Then he was on the ground, looking up into the eyes of his opponent; it had flung him bodily to the ground in mid-attack and pinned him before he'd even known what happened.

"Giroro?," it said, "Giroro, it's me, Natsumi."

A thread of something like electricity coursed through him at the sound of its voice and the words its spoke. No! This opponent sought to crush his will with its mind-games, but it would not work. He would not be defeated by something so low. Summoning his energy, he wrenched his opponent away from him and threw it across the entire length of the room, earning a high-pitched cry of pain from the creature. Not wanting to lose his advantage, he darted upward and shot once again toward the enemy, only to have his own momentum used against him as he was sent crashing into a wall.

"Stop this, Giroro! Don't you remember me? Don't you know who I am?"

Something was wrong about this fight. Not only was he losing, but a slow, throbbing pain had begun seeping into him. His physical injuries were starting to trouble him, something which they had never done before, and every time his enemy spoke he felt the uncomfortable prickling of something intangible.

_Kill it kill it kill it…_

He stood. This was a dangerous enemy; he must eliminate it quickly. Using animal instinct and brute force, he leapt onto his opponent and began beating at its face and body with both fists. He relished the feel of hot blood splashing on his face, and the sound of muffled screams of pain. But then, his opponent did an unexpected thing – it latched onto him. The angle made it difficult to deliver any substantial damage, but he continued a vain barrage of blows as the enemy spoke, persistently and painfully.

"Listen to me, Giroro. You know me. I'm Natsumi – Natsumi Hinata. I'm not your enemy, I'm your friend." The words came out in a sputtering jumble, half-choked around tears and a mouthful of blood. "You… you've always cared about me. Remember? Remember all the times you've helped me when I needed you? And I know there's more to it than just that. You _loved _me, Giroro, and I know you still do! You have a picture of me inside your belt… don't you? I didn't realize it until yesterday when you sent me away, and I still don't know for sure if it's true or not, but I feel like it is, and what's more is I _want_ it to be! Because I understood it yesterday, that you loving me is more important than anything to me – I couldn't get on that ship because I need your love more than I need to live! Giroro, I… I…"

She stopped and panted, having been unable to halt the mindless tumble of words long enough for a single breath. Giroro had also gone still, unable to continue his onslaught, yet not fully in control of himself either. In his mind a thousand voices screamed a thousand different orders, and his attempt to sort through them all was like grasping at straws in a whirlwind. She pulled him back and looked into his eyes with silent yearning, and that's when he saw it – the lone straw in the wind that was his glimmer of hope, his direction, his purpose. But he didn't have the strength to reach out and take it; his body and will were being battered by fear and doubt and anger and countless other obstructions. He would need her once more, just to hear her voice say something, _anything_, to help bring him to himself.

Suddenly her bloody, battered face broke into a smile and she chuckled softly. Her cognizance was trickling away, and it was clear she was rapidly sliding into delerium. "Giroro," she mused, "I just realized… you're taller than me."

That was all it took. Every dam broke, every wall shattered; he could see for miles, fully self-aware and cognizant of all that was happening. Natsumi… he looked down in horror at her pitiful form. She had forcefully driven him back to the brink of sanity, then knocked him over with a feather. But the cost had been herself, and the pain of knowing that he was the one that had done it to her was exceeded only by that of another thought – that she'd done it all for him.

"Natsumi…," he whispered shakily. "Oh god – what have you done?"

She smiled languidly at the sound of his voice, as if satisfied that he was okay again. "Heey, you," she slurred, "gladda see y'back… Geero…"

Without wasting a moment, he gingerly lifted her and ran to the door, summoning all of his strength to kick it down. A crowd of panicked faces turned to him as he burst into the room, but he didn't care. The others could burn – Natsumi was the only thing that mattered to him.

"Keroro!," he bellowed, unable to control the panic in his voice, "where are you? It's Natsumi – she needs help!"


	11. Chapter 11

Giroro stood next to Keroro, discussing half-heartedly the invasion status. He wanted to be next to Natsumi, watching over her recovery; fortunately, although she had lost quite a bit of fluids in the form of blood and vomit, none of her wounds had been severe and she would recuperate quickly in the hyper-humidity chamber they had placed her in. In fact, she'd probably be feeling the best she ever had when she came out of that thing. But despite Aki and Fuyuki's insistence that that they didn't blame him, and neither should he – reminding him of all the times he'd put his life on the line to help her – he couldn't bring himself to look at them, or her.

"So, what's going on out there? Why are we just standing around?"

Keroro glanced at him, momentarily surprised. "Oh! I forgot you weren't aware of our situation." He looked back up at the wall monitor, upon which Tamama was reviewing transmissions from the Keron fleet. "Not long after you returned to base with Lady Moa and Master Natsumi, we found ourselves under lockdown inside this base, de arimasu. Some outside force has found a way to block all audio and visual input from the Pokopenian surface and electromagnetically seal all of our exit routes." He rubbed his chin ponderously. "Other than the fact that it leaves us as sitting ducks, I'm not very concerned about it, de arimasu. It doesn't seem to be an attack – in fact, it appears that whoever is doing it is trying to protect us. In the meantime, Kururu has been hard at work below on a new weapons prototype for when we find a way to exit. The first of the Keron ships, those that were stationed near this end of the galaxy, should be arriving in six hours; the main fleet we are still unsure of, de arimasu."

The sound of footsteps interrupted them, and they turned to see Aki and Fuyuki approaching with a smile. "She's awake," Aki said to Giroro. "She wants to see you."

Giroro glanced over at Keroro, who gave him a prominent nudge and wink. He caught the innuendo and responded by bludgeoning the back of Keroro's skull with his fist before stalking off.

* * *

If Giroro felt any nervousness before entering the room, it vanished upon seeing Natsumi's sincere smile greet him. "How are you feeling?"

She stretched leisurely before hopping to her feet. "Amazing!" She paused upon seeing the concerned look on his face. "Oh, don't worry about me. I've been in that thing for about an hour now, and trust me, I look a lot worse than I feel."

"Good," he smirked, "cause you look pretty bad." He laughed and dodged a playful punch, then took advantage of the rebound to spin her into his arms. He couldn't help himself; seeing her well and happy seemed to make all of the pain and sadness of the last few days dissolve, and he wanted to enjoy these moments while he could.

She giggled and rested her head against his shoulder. A strange feeling had settled over her, one that had been gradually building up inside her ever since she'd found herself in her current alien form. Any feelings that she'd felt for Giroro in the years leading up to that had been limited to that of platonic friendship – not because the attraction wasn't there, but because it had been repressed by the difference in species. Now, she found herself with a new outlook that made her feel like she was facing a completely different Giroro, one whose eyes could see on her level, whose hand fit perfectly into hers. Looking at him like this, she couldn't see any differences between the two of them, and with the removal of that barrier came the inevitable flood of feelings that she'd long denied.

But it couldn't have come at a worse time. They could laugh and play and hold each other all they liked, but in the back of each of their minds lurked the memory that the Greaves were still out there, waiting for their final offensive. The thought made Natsumi shudder and instinctively cling tighter to Giroro.

He noticed. "What is it, Natsumi?"

She bit her lip and burrowed her face deeper into his shoulder. "I was just thinking… I picked a bad time to fall in love."

Giroro froze, hardly daring to believe he'd heard her right.

_Love…_

_Love…_

_Fall in love…_

The words echoed over and over in his head. Greaves, war, destruction, the platoon, Pokopen and Keron, the underground base, the room around them… none of it existed anymore. Only one thing in the universe was real to him now: Love. The love that Natsumi had just confessed for him; the love for which he'd so desperately yearned for the last four years. He wanted to laugh and cry all at the same time, but the only thing he could find himself able to do was tremble and hold her as if his life depended on it.

Natsumi giggled. "I'll bet you're blushing, aren't you? You always were so cute…"

He pulled her away from him, and before she even had a chance to look up she found herself trapped in a fierce kiss. It was so intense and unexpected that she was overcome by a surge of dizziness; hanging limply from his arms, she wanted to return it, but her body would not obey. She succumbed helplessly as he plunged in deeper, fearing she might faint but not wanting the experience to end. Finally, he forced himself to release her and the two of them drew back, panting in disbelief.

The next kiss came almost immediately, this time more tender but no less passionate. "I love you, Natsumi," he whispered against her mouth, sending a ripple of pleasure through her that started at her lips and ended at the tips of her toes. She was in heaven, having never been truly kissed before – at least, not like this. Unable to stand it anymore, she withdrew from his lips and pulled him into a close embrace so she could catch her breath.

With her face nuzzling against his neck, she noticed something surprising that she hadn't before: he smelled nice. The effect was similar to cologne, but not like any she'd ever smelled. She couldn't imagine him wearing anything like that though, especially not in a situation like this. "Giroro," she asked, "this is gonna sound kinda strange… but, do you wear cologne?"

He immediately blushed, then laughed. "Um… no, Natsumi. Those are, um, pheromones. Kind of the Keronian version of… I guess you could say, pitching a tent?"

She giggled; he seemed to feel comfortable talking about it, which was a refreshing change. She inhaled deeply and nuzzled closer to him. "Mm… nice," she murmured dreamily.

Giroro was at a loss for what to do. This time he was the one biting his lip, torn between desire for the woman in his arms and the reality of their situation. _You idiot,_ a voice in his head screamed, _this isn't the time for love-making! You've got a job to do! _On the other hand, she looked so willing, so ready, as she pressed her lips lightly against his neck… ohh, how he wanted to please her...

"GEROOO!"

Well, that was it. The decision was made for him. As the door burst open, a green blur flashed across the room and tackled Natsumi with a flood of tears. "Master Natsumi, I'm so glad to see you're alright, de arimasu!" He turned to Giroro, seemingly oblivious of the disruption he'd just created. "Kururu has finished the new mech weapons and Master Mutsumi will be making an opening for us as soon as…" He paused, sniffing the air, then snickered knowingly. "_Gero gero gero_… I wasn't interrupting, was I?"

Giroro sniffed nonchalantly as he turned to the door. "Keroro… catch."

"Eh?... BWAA!" Keroro panicked as he fumbled with the live grenade. Natsumi just smiled at him and shrugged innocently before following Giroro out the door.


	12. Chapter 12

All eyes turned with relieved expressions as Natsumi and Giroro approached. Koyuki, who had been sitting next to Dororo in deep meditation, looked up in excitement and bounded over to Natsumi. "Natsumi-chan! You're alright!" She smiled and nuzzled her face against Natsumi's. "I'm so glad!"

Natsumi turned slightly pink, secretly enjoying the fact that so many people had been worried about her. "Yeah, well… I couldn't lose to the likes of him, could I?"

"Speaking of which," came a familiar voice, and everyone turned to face the yellow-colored inventor at the front of the room, "I'd like to take a rare opportunity to thank you, Natsumi-san. _Ku ku ku!_ I've just finished my brilliant new weapon model, but my genius would have been all but wasted without Corporal Giroro's firepower, _ku ku!_" This time it was Giroro who turned away in modest embarrassment; it was indeed rare for the intelligence-minded Kururu to compliment him on his battle skills. "Anyway," continued the Sergeant Major, "I present to you the next generation of Keronian mech fighter…" He pressed a button and a nearby wall opened up to reveal the display. "They are individual fighting units modeled after the ship's escape units so that even (ahem) beginners can use them. They combine maximum firepower with superior defense, speed, and ease of use. Basically, you'll have the capabilities of a full-sized mech, but you'll feel like you're in your own body. _Ku ku ku!_"

Keroro staggered into the room, his charred black afro issuing a faint stream of smoke, and collapsed to the floor. "S-sergeant Major Kururu," he gasped, "show them the, the weapon, please…"

"_Ku, ku ku ku ku!_ Way ahead of you, boss," laughed Kururu, pressing the button once more. A collective gasp filled the room as a row of the units, each customized to suit its particular pilot, rolled into view.

"Wow, cool!," exclaimed Fuyuki as he ran up to his – it was charcoal grey, with cobalt trim and an alien insignia that matched the one on his hat and chest. "Mom, can I try it out?"

Aki smiled and nodded her approval, although Natsumi had a maternal urge to protest. She'd been in some of those alien's fighting machines before, and while she didn't mind it so much herself, Fuyuki was somewhat less athletically inclined and seemed ill-suited for open combat.

"_Ku ku ku! _Excellent! You'll be the demonstration, then." Kururu pressed the button once more; with a mechanical whir, the entire unit folded in on itself and snapped into a neat little band. "Put it on your wrist to activate it," he ordered, extending it to Fuyuki.

Every eye in the room was fixed in anticipation as he took the band and slipped it over his wrist, pausing momentarily to ready himself before clasping it shut. The weapon instantly began re-forming itself around his body, beginning with his forearms and snaking its way down to his feet before ending in a crested headpiece that was partially open. Fuyuki proudly did his best modeling impression as Kururu explained the weapon's features to the others.

"You'll find that each unit connects to its user's brainwaves to implement a fighting style best suited for you. Once this is done it will automatically produce whatever weapon or shield the situation requires. Also, like the ship's escape pods, you can communicate using brainwaves as long as you are in the unit. Like I said, it's beginner friendly – in fact, it pretty much pilots itself, all you have to do is think." He became suddenly serious, fixing them all with a meaningful glare as he gestured to two slots on either side of the neck. "Now, this is very important, so listen carefully. These slots are something that we're going to need specifically for fighting the Greaves. You'll be given two vials – a blue one and a red one. The one on the right," he said, gesturing to Fuyuki's right, "is for the blue vial. It contains a fear-suppressing serum which, when inserted, will be administered directly into your bloodstream. It's dangerous stuff – makes you do things you wouldn't do if you were in your right mind – but you'll need to have some of this in you at all times. Remember this: the Greaves get their power from fear. If you ever run out of serum, you're going to be devoured."

The rest of the room cringed slightly at the Sergeant Major's gruesome words, but he appeared not to notice and continued with business. "Now… the slot on the left, as you have probably guessed, is for the red vial." He paused slightly, his countenance bearing a hint of morbid enjoyment. "The red vial contains highly-concentrated toxic cyanide. If you are ever caught with no hope of escape, use this as your last resort. At least it will be quick and painless that way."

The humans were the only ones who expressed shock at the final statement. Natsumi felt her knees growing weak and a mountain forming in her throat; she had been in perilous situations before, even life-threatening, but never before had she felt like she had just received a promise of imminent death. She looked over at Giroro, who appeared stoic but unsurprised.

_No wonder he wanted me to leave…_

"Lady Momoka," said Paul softly, "I wish that you would not do this."

Momoka clenched her fists, visibly fired up. "I _will_ do this Paul. You can't stop me."

"We're in this together, after all," reminded Aki. She somehow managed to sound upbeat, although Natsumi knew her well enough to know that she was scared.

"Mrow! Mrow…" Natsumi glanced down and saw Koneko pacing around Giroro and butting her head against him unhappily. He was grinding his teeth so hard he didn't even seem to notice, and it didn't take an expert in alien psychology to know what he was so distraught over. She caught his attention and motioned him aside, much to Koneko's dismay, while the others continued to chat absently in hope of drowning out thoughts of the inevitable.

"Giroro?..." He looked deliberately away to avoid meeting her gaze, even as she spoke. "I know about the Greaves, Giroro. Dororo told me about… about Kalili." He met her eyes briefly in surprise, but the emotion was short-lived and he abruptly went back to sulking silence. She huffed in exasperation –he was so stubborn, even for a man. "Look, that's not going to happen to me. We've been in dangerous situations before, and it seems like we've got pretty good resources for fighting these things so our chances should be…"

"Natsumi," he interrupted, still refusing to look at her directly, "I want you to stay by me at all times. Just focus on keeping yourself safe; I'll give my life before I let any harm come to you." He paused, waiting for a response, which did not come. "Natsum—"

_Smack!_

Giroro winced and rubbed his stinging jaw, not entirely sure why he'd been hit. He loved her, but damn – twice in two days?! Women could be so unpredictable sometimes…

"Listen," railed Natsumi, leaning forward so he had no choice but to look her in the eye, "do you want to be with me or not? Cause if you do, there are some things that we have to straighten out, right now." He nodded silently, genuinely confounded by her and unwilling to fight about it. She straightened up as if satisfied. "Right. Now, first of all, I'm not weak and you know it. Remember the first time I fought you?" He did remember – oh, how well he remembered that first vivid moment when he met and fell in love with the girl before him, that surprising instant when she came into his life and turned his world (and his head) inside-out. Upon receiving his reluctant admittance, she settled back with a smug smile. "I didn't lose then, and I haven't lost to you since. I'm every bit as strong as you, and you wouldn't have me any other way. Am I right?"

He didn't answer. She sighed, her proud smile fading to one of warmth and reassurance as she reached down and took his hand. "You know, I like the way you treated me in there," she said, motioning to the room she had recovered in. "You were comfortable talking and joking with me. It was one of the few times where I felt like, well, your equal." She pulled him close to her, noticing that he was shaking ever so slightly. "Giroro, I'm not asking you to stop protecting me. I don't _want_ you to stop protecting me. But I also don't want to be treated like a helpless little china doll, never allowed to be put in the way of danger. Besides," she whispered against his shoulder, "I want to protect you as well."

He stood in silence, contemplating her words for a few moments, before returning her tight embrace. "Natsumi," he said simply, "I understand. Thank you."


	13. Chapter 13

"Gentlemen! – and Ladies – We now stand ready to face our most fearsome enemy to date, de arimasu. If you haven't taken the blue serum yet, please do so now."

Natsumi chewed violently on her lower lip as she ran her fingers across the two smooth cylinders located beneath her wristplate. She passed over the red one with an involuntary shiver and released the other; pausing, she took a deep breath before raising it to her neck. A sharp, needle-like jab accompanied the snap of it sliding into place, causing her to gasp. It was done. Without releasing her lower lip, she turned her attention back up to Keroro, who was addressing them for the final time, and tried not to think about the effects of the serum.

"Good! Now, with regards to the mission we are about to undertake… I will not lie to you, it will be a difficult and dangerous one, de arimasu. The good news is, we apparently have someone on our side – according to our sensors, the number of Greaves in the surrounding area has decreased nearly 30 in the last two hours, and we have detected several other high-energy life-forms which do not identify as Greaves. We assume that they are Pokopenians, de arimasu." The look of surprise that crossed Giroro's face did not escape Natsumi's notice. She, however, remained focused on Keroro. "But we must not trick ourselves into thinking this will make it significantly easier, de arimasu. Keronian ships will be arriving soon, but the bulk of the fleet will not be arriving for some time yet. Meaning, we may be out there fighting for several hours, and during those hours we will be subjected to pain and fear such as we have never known, de arimasu. Everyone, I want you to do as I have done and brace yourself for the brutal reality that you may very well die tonight." He raised his hand in a slow salute. "It has truly been an honor knowing and serving you all as your commander…"

Natsumi felt tears growing in her eyes as she returned the salute, hardly able to believe that the stupid frog had been capable of delivering such a stirring speech, when Keroro suddenly whirled around and faced his followers with a large, idiotic grin on his face.

"Juuust kidding! I don't really intend to die. _Gero gero gero!_" He turned and paced casually, ignoring the others' stunned expressions. "Seriously though, think of this as a routine training mission. Always be on your guard, always fight to your best and strongest potential, but never, ever let defeat even cross your mind, de arimasu! As your commander, I know that each and every one of you is too strong to fail in this mission – don't forget that! When it's over, we'll all come back to the base to eat sweet potato dangos and build Gunpla in celebration, de arimasu! Well? Who's with me?"

It was neither deep nor moving, but something about his words stirred up a feeling of confidence within Natsumi – a feeling which she suspected was due at least in part to the effects of the serum. She was eager, she was inspired, she was excited. Nothing could stand against their defense of Earth; even those foul death-monsters whose image was still imprinted in the back of her mind had lost that intangible quality that had once made them so terrifying to her. She was truly fearless.

She turned to her family; noticing that her mother's eyes reflected the same spirited gleam as her own, she grinned and threw a metal-plated arm around her. "You're not looking forward to this, are you, mom?"

Aki returned her daughter's playful gesture with a smile. "I'm always ready, kiddo. Let's just hope the printer's doesn't get messed up during this battle – when all this is over, I've got a lot of ideas for Yoshizaki's next edition!"

* * *

The team stood back and watched as Mutsumi traced a careful pattern on the wall of the base. Upon its completion, he pulled out his notepad and made a few more lines with his reality pen before turning to the others.

"Stand back."

No one was exactly sure how he did it, but with a brief flick of his wrist, the image on the wall imploded in a flash of energy and they found themselves facing the nocturnal darkness that was Inner Tokyo. Keroro nodded his gratitude to Mutsumi, who replied with a modest bow, then addressed the others simply.

"Remember, we are aiming for as little collateral damage as possible. After all, this isn't some anime where the city will magically rebuild itself before the next episode, de arimasu. We have to put up our best defense of Pokopen until the Keron Army arrives, so keep the well-being of the planet in the back of your mind as you fight. Otherwise, let's do our best… good luck, men!... er… and women!"

He saluted one last time before vanishing through the opening in the side of the base. Natsumi watched the others filing out behind him, noting with vague amusement that Giroro's former reluctance had been fully displaced by his characteristic zeal. He stopped before reaching the exit, then turned to her and extended his hand, the corners of his lips curling into a ready smile. She took it and followed him into the darkness, feeling certain the two of them together made up an unstoppable force. There was nothing they couldn't do.

The air outside was thick and rank, full of the stench of the Greaves and the unmistakable aura of death. Dororo and Koyuki were standing back-to-back, their eyes closed and their bodies still as twin statues as they mentally assessed the situation.

"They have killed many," the assassin murmured gravely behind his mask. "There are some who still live, but their suffering is great."

Natsumi felt Giroro's hand tighten around hers and squeezed it reassuringly. She knew he was thinking about the soldier he'd mercifully shot that night many years ago, and that the uncontrollable trembling she now felt coursing through him sprang not from fear, but rage. She felt it herself, and set her mind in helping him become an instrument of justice.

Kururu whirred by overhead inside a mobile air unit with his companion, Mutsumi, perched readily atop the machine like a hawk. The former spoke to them, his words echoing directly into their heads in an all-too-familiar manner.

_I hope you're all ready for this. It seems like every monster in the city is focusing on us, because they're coming from every direction. Not only that, but they've got something much bigger in their wake… I can't tell what it is though… ku… ku…_

Keroro rose head-level above them, barking audible orders as the team readied themselves. "You five, cover the northern quadrant! The rest of you, face south! I'll join Kururu and Saburo in aerial defense. Hold all actions until I give the order, de arimasu!"

The scene was surreal. Natsumi heard the shouting of the sergeant's voice, saw the flickering of the Greaves' ships overhead, felt the hilt of twin plasma pistols appear in each of her hands and the warmth of Giroro pressing against her back, but none of it seemed to be happening. This was it. She was facing war. And she was ready for it.

Silence faded to a distant rumbled, accompanied by a familiar bone-chilling screech. She couldn't see them yet, but she could feel them, their sepulchral mouths slathering and snarling in anticipation of their grisly meal. They were coming ever closer, coming for her. She readied her stance.

"Giroro," she called, with a quick glance over her shoulder, "I love you."

He briefly returned her look, then turned with a gentle smirk.

"I know, Natsumi. I know."


	14. Chapter 14

_Don't scream._

_Don't move._

_Don't think._

"Hold!," screamed Keroro above the cacaphony as the tip of the enemy wave crested over the horizon ahead of them. With great effort, Natsumi held. Adrenaline pulsed through her at the sight of the roiling, loathsome mass, the blasphemous legions which were so numerous they seemed to converge into a single writhing entity in their reckless advance. They were now less than 500 meters away and closing in fast. Natsumi gripped her weapons tightly in restless anticipation.

"Hold!..." At Keroro's signal, Kururu and Mutsumi unleashed the first wave of a joint attack: a volley of paper missiles that spiraled outward in every direction and exploded over their target in a wave of white-hot energy. Natsumi had to shield her eyes against the blast as she strained to see its effects. Even at this distance, the intense heat pierced her armor and prickled uncomfortably against her skin. After what seemed like several minutes, the light finally subsided and the smoke began to dissipate, revealing results that were far too graphic to describe in too much detail while maintaining a "T" rating. Natsumi wrinkled her face at the sight.

_Disgusting._

Behind her, Giroro chuckled.

_I thought it was pretty impressive… but now let's show them what we can do._

Natsumi nodded and readied herself. Her stance was fixed, her sights were steady, her mind was clear; all she needed was the go-ahead from Keroro. Within moments the next wave of monsters slowly visualized through the haze – marching carelessly over the smoldering piles that had once been their comrades – and the order she was awaiting rang immediately into the night sky and hung there.

"Attack! Fiiiiire!"

And thus it began. Up until this moment, Natsumi had experienced every single sensation with a kind of somnambulistic disbelief, a feeling of being encased in a surreality that dominated the world around her but was independent of her own self. But now that the time had come, now that the fate of Earth lay within those two triggers beneath her fingers, she felt she could see clearly again. With a cool head and a steady heart, she looked into the advancing flood and smiled.

_Welcome to Earth…_

Battle erupted around her. She was immersed in a world of riotous light and sound; all around her she saw flashes of energy streaming into the oncoming chaos and heard the screams of gunfire resonating with those of the enraged Greaves. Interestingly, when stripped of their greatest weapon – fear – they proved surprisingly frail. One by one, they fell beneath the offensive; aiming was almost unnecessary because their sheer numbers comprised a virtually unmissable target.

But it wasn't nearly enough. Like a wounded behemoth, the surge pressed slowly forward, relentless in its pursuit of a fresh kill. Natsumi swore as her weapon abruptly shut off and flung it to the ground in frustration.

_It's overheated. Switch to something different for now or you'll burn yourself – a fission weapon is a dangerous thing._

She blinked in surprise. Giroro wasn't even looking at her, but he was still managing to look out for her. She took a deep breath and nodded as a new kind of weapon appeared in her hands.

_Thanks, Giroro._

The new weapon, a particle beam rifle, wasn't as powerful and had a shorter range than the previous gun, but her aching, tired arms were grateful for the cooler temperature and lack of recoil that it offered. She didn't know the first thing about these alien weapons her unit was providing her with, but Kururu had been right: they fit her needs exactly.

The battle continued to crawl onward, battering their struggling defenses like a hurricane. Try as she might to focus on the task at hand, in the back of her mind she couldn't help but wonder how much time had passed since they started their attack. It felt like hours, but it could have been much less. Either way, the distance between themselves and the Greave army was roughly a quarter what it was at the beginning of the battle.

What that meant was, regardless of how close their aerial reinforcements were to arriving, it wouldn't be long before they met the enemy face-to-face.

Then, Natsumi knew, that's when the real battle would begin.

* * *

Strange things were happening to Fuyuki. Even with the fear-suppressing serum in his blood, he had been scared as hell coming into this battle. Truth be told, he still was. His mom, Natsumi, Nishizawa-san, Gunso and the others… they were good at fighting and the like, but he, scrawny nerd that he was, just wasn't cut out for this sort of thing. Yet he absolutely wouldn't let anyone protect him; he was part of a team, and he would have to help them now rather than bringing them down.

But his mech had searched his brain and provided him with an unexpected weapon. In fact, he hadn't even known it _was_ a weapon when it first appeared in his hands.

It was a book.

Vaguely, he had a feeling that he'd seen this book somewhere before. It was a large codex, bound in some thick, leathery material with heavy iron clasps on one side. It appeared very ancient, with large black letters on the front written in a language that Fuyuki did not understand:

**Νεκρόνόμικόν**

The battle started and everyone around him began showering the enemy with a barrage of artillery. He, however, remained entranced by the mysterious book. With great care, he undid the clasps and lifted the cover, only to find – to his great disappointment – that the rest of the book was in the same cryptic language as its cover. Yet, he somehow felt he should be able to understand this book… if only…

_Gunso, are we equipped with translators?_

It took a moment for Keroro to respond in the midst of the fight. As strange as the question may have been at a time like this, his friend took no note of it.

_I'm afraid not, Fuyuki-dono. Do you need one?_

_Yes, actually._

There was another momentary pause.

_Alright. I'll let you use mine for now, but I won't be able to communicate with you in the meantime, de arimasu. I'll have Kururu give the orders in my place. Catch!_

Fuyuki caught a gleam of light flying toward him and reached up to grab the translator in its descent. After a few moments of struggling, he managed to equip it successfully and returned his attention to the text. It was Greek: ancient, yet post-Classical. He wasn't sure how he knew that, but somehow he did. He began to read, and before he'd even finished the first line his eyes were growing wide with the realization of what kind of book this was. Abandoning care, he flung the book shut and turned it over to get another look at the cover.

His breath caught in his chest. There was the name of the tome, standing out boldly against the faded leather surface. He could read it, and he knew what it meant. It said simply:

**Necronomicon**


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer**: I suppose now would be a good time to mention that I don't own the Necronomicon. If you're curious (and even if you're not) I recommend good ol' Google. ;)

* * *

Keroro's eyes narrowed into slits as he gazed across the chaotic landscape. His military instincts were telling him that they wouldn't last much longer at this rate. Fierce, uninterrupted combat had generated massive amounts of heat, so thick it hung visibly in shimmering waves above them; not surprisingly, this sweltering atmosphere was causing the troops' energy level to flag noticeably. He pursed his lips into a tight frown. There was no way they could face short-range combat in this condition – they'd be slaughtered in an instant.

Launching himself upward, he landed on the roof of Kururu's airship and slid into the hatch. On his way in, Mutsumi made a light-hearted comment in his direction, not knowing that Keroro could no longer speak his language.

"Sergeant Major Kururu," he said in Keronian as he entered the cockpit. "Are you able to get a signal from Little Police right now?"

Kururu turned, looking at his remote. "Eh… there's some interference from the Greave ships, but if I amplify the signal, I should be able to control it from here."

Keroro nodded. "Good. Listen carefully, Sergeant Major – I have some important instructions for you…"

* * *

_Quit worrying about me, already._

Giroro cast a quick glance over the shoulder and smiled for what felt like the first time in ages. At least he wasn't the only one feeling irritable, although, truth be told, most of the annoyance he was feeling was directed at himself. The battle had barely begun and he was already feeling the weight of fatigue – had he really gotten this soft during his stay on Pokopen? He shook his head roughly and turned his focus back to the task at hand. Now was not the time to be self-critical; besides, he was enjoying the feeling of the smile on his face and couldn't quite bring himself to be completely serious.

_Oy, Natsumi. How many have you killed so far?_

Not surprisingly, she didn't want to play.

_Like I've been keeping count! Now, would you mind not distracting me right now? I'm a little busy trying… to…_

Her voice trailed off as the environment began to change around them. It started with a beam of light above them that unfolded into a shimmering yellow dome, forming a barrier which separated them from the enemy. Out of the corner of his eye, Giroro saw Natsumi hesitantly return the gun to eye level and immediately reached out to catch her.

"Wait, Natsumi!"

A few seconds later, Kururu's voice spoke to them directly.

_Attention everyone! This is your commander speaking, ku ku ku! Keroro is currently incapable of speech, so instead you get me! As you've probably noticed, the sergeant has used the Kero Ball to create a shield around us – it should hold up to half an hour, but there's no guarantee of it. Also, he wanted me to tell you that you've all been doing a great job. Those were his words, not mine. Ku kuuu!_

Before he had even finished speaking, a cool breeze began to trickle through them, the herald of an oncoming rain shower. Natsumi exhaled deeply, letting it wash over her weary body as she sank to the ground. Giroro followed and pulled her close so she could rest against him. And up above them, Mutsumi watched and smiled from beneath the shelter of a paper umbrella.

"Good for you, Natchii," he whispered, "and you, too, Giroro."

* * *

Fuyuki didn't notice when the shield appeared above them. He didn't hear Kururu's voice when it spoke to him, nor did he even feel the cold rain which now pelted his exposed hands and face. His attention could not be torn from the archaic tome before him; with an eagerness that bordered on obsession, he devoured every word before plunging in hungrily for more. The knowledge contained within its pages was both terrible and wonderful: everything he knew, everything he believed, everything he'd even imagined was being slowly unraveled and reconstructed before him. He felt he was the witness of things mankind was not meant to know – things that could drive men to the brink of madness while giving them the power of gods. It would have been terrifying, had it not been so intoxicating…

"…_Fuyuki-dono!!_"

Fuyuki jolted abruptly back to reality at the sound of Gunso's voice. At first, he wasn't entirely sure where he was or what he was doing – he simply nodded and stared at the sergeant spoke to him.

"I've been calling your name for nearly a full minute, de arimasu! What are you reading?" Fuyuki opened his mouth, not entirely sure how to explain, but Keroro plowed on without even waiting for an answer. "According to Kururu, we've disposed of nearly half of the Greaves in the immediate area, but there are still untold numbers waiting in the outskirts, and they all seem to be honing in on us, de arimasu." He paused and furrowed his brow, his expression growing dark. "There are also three large, unidentifiable creatures headed quickly in our direct. We may be able to defeat them on our own, but with all of these Greaves in the way, and no word from our reinforcements…" He looked into the distance for a moment, then shook his head and put on a forced smile. "But hey, I don't know why I'm telling you all this, Fuyuki-dono! No need to talk about boring stuff like that right now,eh? Anyway, what about you? How have you been doing, Fuyuki-dono?"

Fuyuki glanced down at the Necronomicon. Also called the Book of the Dead, it was the most infamous piece of arcane literature in existence – a work so rare it was widely thought to be a myth and so terrifying that even brief references to it could cause occult scholars to shudder. He had known all this before, of course, and therefore should have thought twice before allowing himself to read it; now that he had indulged, it held him prisoner like a mouse trapped in the claws of a playful cat. Tearing away his eyes, he looked instead at the army on the other side of the golden dome. The sight wasn't at all reassuring. Hundreds of the beasts were packed in around them, their twisted bodies writhing, clawing ravenously at the translucent barrier.

He looked at them.

He looked at the book in his hands.

"Gunso," he said as he slowly rose to his feet, "I'll be fine here. You go back to the command center; I'm going to do everything I can."


	16. Chapter 16

Natsumi groaned and rolled over as the rain began to dissipate, a sign that their brief respite would be ending soon. Giroro stood and extended his hand to help her to her feet.

"Don't get too comfortable. It's about to get ugly."

She sighed as she stood, not wanting to be reminded. The luminescent barrier that separated them from the Greaves was now flickering feebly; it would only be a matter of time before it gave out entirely, leaving them at the mercy of the bloodthirsty hoard. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to focus her mind on the upcoming task. There was still no fear – only growing anticipation and residual weariness. As she focused, the armor searched her brain and produced matching beam swords in each of her hands. She was ready – or, as ready as she was ever going to get, at least.

Once again, Giroro took his place at her back. It was a familiar position, one she was rather growing to like. It reminded her of an incident several years ago, not long after they had met. The two of them had found themselves fighting back-to-back like this, all because the stupid frog had been lazy about brushing his teeth…

_"One hundred percent accuracy," he remarked over his shoulder. "You're pretty good."_

_She quietly smirked, secretly pleased at having impressed someone with his level of skill. "You're not so bad yourself…"_

In the midst of her reminiscing, the shield unexpectedly gave way and a flood of monsters crashed down upon her without warning. Drowning in the screaming tide, she lashed out in a blind panic before being knocked roughly to the ground.

"Natsumi!"

She couldn't see, but she could tell that he was above her, shielding her, cutting down monsters with a coolness more suited to a poker match than a spur-of-the-moment battle. Her heart fluttered a bit in spite of her situation. Fighting her way through flailing limbs, she returned to her feet and joined him in the fray.

_Thanks, Giroro._

He answered hastily without looking up.

_Don't let your guard down. I need you to live, Natsumi._

She steadied herself before attacking, drawing focus from Giroro's controlled example. Back to back, the two of them formed an immutable cyclone; whirling, flashing, striking in harmony, they danced in an out of their foes as they wove their web of destruction. With their minds virtually connected, their bodies and weapons moved as one. Glowing-hot blades slid effortlessly through flesh and bone, and the few enemies which were able to land a physical attack on them merely clattered harmlessly off the surface of their armor.

They would hold out well like this for a short time, but how long? Natsumi didn't even allow herself to think about the future – about what would happen when her body ultimately began to tire and she would find herself physically unable to defend herself against the horrors around her. It was coming, and quickly, but for the moment she was right here, right now.

And that was where she intended to stay as long as she could.

* * *

For the first time since he'd spoken to Keroro, Fuyuki looked up from the pages of the tome in his hands. A fierce battle was raging all around: his mother, his sister and all his friends were desperately fighting for their lives, yet he somehow felt it didn't concern him. His head felt submerged – he was gazing into a single black orb, the deep, penetrating eye of a Greave. It stood before him, gazing not at him but into him, seeming to pierce his very soul.

It then spoke to him, its language unknown but its voice eerily human.

_You do not fear us._

Fuyuki returned the monster's cold stare without blinking.

"What are you? Why do you not kill me?"

The Greave stretched its gaping jaws and flexed its serpentine limbs, clearly wishing to do so but stopped by something impalpable to Fuyuki – fear, perhaps?

_We are not the destroyers, but the messengers. The Tattered King now stirs in his slumber, preparing to arise from Lost Carcosa. We who serve him will pave the way, by cloaking the Earth in blood and madness, but He is the One who will open dimensions, and bring about the end to this world and all others._

The monster's eye was flickering in all directions within its malformed skull, either from excitement or agitation. Fuyuki felt his intuition had been correct – that, for whatever reason, the Greaves were afraid of him.

"I won't let you have Earth," he stated boldly.

The Greave gnashed at him and clawed the ground in what appeared to be a sneer.

_If the stars are right, the King in Yellow will arise. There is nothing that you or any of your gods can do to stop it._

Fuyuki's ears were ringing, his head spinning. He'd heard enough; he wanted nothing more to do with these abhorrent creatures that were so bent on destruction and insanity. He glanced down at the Necronomicon, still open in his hands, and recalled one particular spell which seemed to have engraved itself in his mind. The spell beckoned him, urged him to call out its name so that it could come to him and work his will. He obeyed.

As he raised his dominant hand to the Greave before him, the words began to pour from him throat like they possessed a life of their own. They were horrific in a way, sounding like nothing any human should be able to produce.

"Cbracxd'br tpl'vaszrn rnk-dcnk zu'xrtoc ch-rka ch'nkh'bt!"

The Greave's eye stopped flickering as the spell released Fuyuki. It was frozen in time; all of them were – countless Greaves, as far as the eye could see, hanging suspended in mid-action like otherworldly gargoyles. Then they began to disappear. It was almost imperceptible at first, just a faint dulling of their features followed by a growing transparency as their reality slowly untwined. Finally, they vanished completely, leaving the bewildered group of fighters standing alone with Fuyuki in the center. He held up the book; then, suddenly, his face broke into a wild smile and he began to laugh hysterically.

"I did it! I killed them all! I… killed…"

_Pain_.

Sudden, indescribable, unbearable _pain_.

He didn't know where it had come from, or what was causing it. There was no particular part of his body that was hurting: it was abstract, as if his very _soul_ hurt.

He thrashed and writhed and screamed. A jagged knife appeared in his hands and he plunged it repeatedly into his body, trying anything to alleviate the blinding pain. Over and over and over until finally he recognized the form of Keroro, his old friend, standing over him holding a gun.

Then, mercifully, the pain ended.


	17. Chapter 17

"Fuyuki? _Fuyuki!"_

Most of the group was so startled by the disappearance of the Greaves that they hadn't noticed when Fuyuki arched his back, screamed, and began viciously attacking himself. But Natsumi had noticed. She had also seen Keroro materialize the gun; she had seen him point it at her thrashing brother's head and stumbled to try and stop him, just before he pulled the trigger and Fuyuki went still.

_No…_

She drew back in horror, unable to believe what she was seeing.

"Fuyuki… stupid frog… _what the hell_?..."

Keroro stared numbly down at Fuyuki's limp form, his mouth forming silent words in an attempt to sort out the situation. "I… I had to stun him, for his protection, de arimasu." He trembled visibly, never once taking his eyes off his friend. "Fuyuki-dono… why?"

He was speaking in the Keronians' alien language, but Natsumi didn't have to understand his words to see the pain etched in his features. It was enough to make her choke with fear. "Is… is he…"

Kururu replied.

_He's stunned, and lucky too. Looks like the armor deflected the knife. Send him up here – there's enough room for one more – but take the armor off first so he can't do anything stupid again._

Keroro was the one to make the first move. He released the metal band from Fuyuki's arm so that the armor disappeared inside it, then, in a remarkable display of strength, hoisted the seventeen-year-old over his shoulder and flew toward Kururu.

"Something's coming," Giroro growled, not taking his eyes off the horizon. "Not Greaves… not Pokopenians… I don't know what it is." A few seconds later, Kururu confirmed his thoughts.

_I'm reading something coming closer, but I still can't tell what it is. It's like it's there, but… not. Ku ku? Either way, it's getting really close…_

Natsumi looked up at Aki and saw the sadness reflected in her eyes, the uncharacteristic weariness and worry that her mother never let anyone, much less her children, catch a glimpse of. Suddenly, she didn't want to do this anymore. She was tired of fighting, tired of seeing people she cared about hurt, tired of… living. It just wasn't worth it anymore. She wanted to lay down in the street and die, let the damned Greaves take over the Earth. What did it even matter in the end?...

"What… what _is that?!_"

Reluctantly, Natsumi turned her head and followed the trace of Momoka's outstretched finger. Nearly half a block to the south, a mysterious halo of light had appeared with no apparent source. At first it resembled a faint cloud, hovering less than a mere meter above the ground, then gradually grew stronger and brighter as it swirled and pulsed. Her previous despair trumped by curiosity, Natsumi leaned in, straining to hear; sounds emanated from beyond – voices, human at that – yet nothing could be seen around the shimmering vortex.

"Pretty…," whispered Tamama, while Giroro scowled and readied his weapon.

Suddenly, the pool of light ruptured, splitting apart the very fabric of space to reveal what lay beyond: a daylit landscape, the hazy red sky in which stretched out over an expanse of open sea that was interrupted only by a rocky jetty and a tall, serene lighthouse. Natsumi gazed at it in wonder, her feet slowly moving her forward without conscious instruction, when a sudden bustle of activity warned her to step back. She could hear the voices distinctly now, though only one of them was speaking Japanese; the other sounded like… English?

"It's open, I'm going in!"

It was a man's voice who spoke, and a man's voice who replied, although she didn't understand the reply – why hadn't she paid better attention in English class?! She stared, transfixed, waiting for them to appear.

_Should I be on my guard? Maybe I should get out my weapon…_

Yet, she didn't draw her weapon, and the voices were still shouting as the first of them began to spill through the open gate. Giroro practically leapt in front of her as they emerged, bristling like a cat and never once taking his eyes from the sights of his gun. Others were also bracing for a hostile encounter: Paul was at ready in front of Momoka, Dororo and Koyuki were perched side-by-side with cloaked shurikens in their hands, and Keroro had emerged from tending Fuyuki and was watching the newcomers with a wary eye.

The first man caught sight of them and stopped, meeting Keroro's stare. No one dared move for several long seconds; unspoken tension draped the scene like a heavy fog as the two leaders sized one another up visually. Natsumi held her breath as she made her own silent analysis.

He was clearly American, not young, yet not old. She thought he had a very un-leader like appearance – his shaggy brown hair hung in unkempt ringlets around a face covered in stubble, he wore a faded "Zed Heppelin" t-shirt beneath a red flannel button-up with baggy jeans and old silver boots, and even with his current poker-face his eyes held a trickle of mirth while his mouth seemed to want to form an easygoing smile. Come to think of it, his mannerisms reminded her somewhat of Mutsumi's.

Finally, Keroro seemed to relax and motioned Giroro to lower his gun. He did, albeit reluctantly. "I am Sergeant Keroro, of the Keroro Platoon: Gamma Planetary System, 58th Planet, Space Invasion Army Special Tactics Unit, de arimasu. Are you here to help us?"

Natsumi nearly groaned; Keroro had been speaking in his alien language, so there was no way he was going to understand. However, to her shock, the man immediately lapsed into a lopsided grin and responded. "Yeah, me an' my team. Call me Peppers."

Gaping, she glanced over at Giroro. He could only shrug, his eyes wide. Somehow, the American not only could understand the Keronian language, but Keroro, even without his translator, could also understand him.

"Lemme introduce you to the others," he said, with a motion to four other humans who were coming up behind him.

"Wait just a minute!," interrupted Giroro in Keronian with a heated look in Keroro's direction, "Keroro, how do we know we can trust these Pokopenians? They just came out of nowhere and…"

Once again, Keroro motioned Giroro to stop. With a look of extreme consternation, Giroro made as if to argue but finally snapped his mouth shut and walked away, openly fuming. Keroro watched him leave, then turned back to Peppers.

"Forgive my subordinate, Master Peppers. He is rather on edge, as you can imagine, from all that has occurred these past few days, de arimasu."

The man ran a hand through his disheveled hair and nodded. "Don't worry 'bout it… looks like you guys have had a real ass-beatin' down here. Listen, we don't have much time, so I'm just gonna skip the introductions and get you guys out of here, starting with…" He paused and looked around, his smile fading as he did so. "The boy," he muttered softly, "where's the boy?"

Behind them, to the north, an unearthly shriek rent the silence, causing everyone to jerk around. Natsumi peered around Giroro, straining to see through the darkness. Ahead, she could see the outline of a twisted metal fence that had been pushed back into a bizarre angle during the course of their offensive. At its base, a mysterious cloud was forming; it looked like a pale blue puff of smoke, pushing itself out from the intersection of ground and steel then slowly materializing, contracting. In its early stages, the result was long and blue and wriggled like a snake… or a tongue…

"Oh, shit," she heard Peppers exclaim behind her. His casual drawl was gone; his voice now quavered with recognition and fear. "Oh, _shit!_"


	18. Chapter 18

"Get through the gate, _now!_ Don't even look at that thing, _just go!!_"

Giroro stalled, having to suppress both his natural appetite for combat and his intense distrust of the commanding Pokopenian. Peppers was motioning his followers into position while roaring instructions, all the while trying to shield the sight of whatever was materializing behind him. Without dropping his weapon, Giroro cast a quick glance back at the swirling portal and the tranquil seascape that lay beneath, and in the process found himself looking into Natsumi's eyes. They were large and turbid, imparting a distinct sense of urgency.

"Come on, Giroro," she begged, tugging at his hand, "don't do anything stupid. Let's just do what he says."

_Don't do anything stupid…_

She knew him too well. Sighing, he put his weapon away and began moving with the others toward the gate. Although he balked at the thought of taking orders from a slovenly Pokopenian, he knew Natsumi would be safer in that other place than she would be here with that… that whatever it was.

Another ethereal scream ripped through the air, sending an abrasive spasm through his body despite the continuing effects of the fear-serum. Suddenly, he was desperate to get Natsumi out of there. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he sped forward with all his might and practically threw her through the gate.

"Christ, there are two more coming! Get in place, Jules, we're gonna have to fight this one off until we can get everyone out!"

Temporarily forgetting everything, Giroro whirled around in anticipation of fighting. What he saw transfixed him, pinning him to the spot. The thing that had emerged as a pale plume of smoke from the corner of a fencepost was now a two-story monstrosity: a jagged, roughly canine head protruded from the long, scaly body, its jaws dripping eagerly around the wriggling, purple tube of a tongue. It writhed heavenward, throwing its head back in a screeching howl of victory, before arching downward in frenzied pursuit of its target.

"GO! Go, get out!"

Giroro felt himself being lifted forcefully, flopping like a rag doll as someone threw him over their shoulder and ran in the opposite direction, yet he couldn't take his eyes off the creature. Its presence had possessed him; he wanted to stand and gaze at it, even if it meant being devoured. Maybe he even _wanted _it to devour him. Such a magnificent creature… so esoteric and powerful…

"So I take it you're a fighter, eh?"

Giroro blinked, suddenly finding himself looking into the face of a kindly old man. The two of them were seated on a dock overlooking the ocean, illuminated by a street lamp in the quickly-fading red of dusk. It was the same familiar seascape he'd seen through the gate, but he didn't recognize the man before him, nor did he know how he got there. Upon seeing his confusion, the old man chuckled.

"All worlds exist in a balance, lad: speed and stealth, knowledge and luck, strength and tenacity. Those who fight only with physical strength risk losing a battle of will – you know that don't you?" He reached in a worn leather bag and retrieved a vial of some amber liquid, which he pushed over to Giroro. "I'm Harvey Jones, doctor and retired professor of experimental medicine at Miskatonic University. Drink this, it'll put a bit of the spring back in your step."

Giroro peered into the vial and wrinkled his nose. It smelled terrible. He looked away, noticing that the dock was positioned not far from a sprawling, unkempt rail-yard; webs of seasoned tracks laced in and out of tunnels, some bearing the rusted remains of retired boxcars and steam engines.

"Where are we?"

The old doctor stretched and leaned back. "Kingsport, m'boy. A place no monsters can ever come." He motioned sideways to the railyard. "Train runs to Arkham every half hour. We'll be taking the next one comes around, I reckon."

"What were those things, the ones that attacked us back there?"

Harvey's face worked into a frown, yet his voice was still light as he replied. "They were Hounds… that's what we call them, anyway – the Hounds – because they'll pursue their target to the ends of the Earth until they get what they want. We don't know much about them. All we know that they live in the void between time and access our world through angles in space, and that they are very dangerous."

Giroro paused, feeling something was wrong. This scenario didn't feel real – it had an unnerving, illusive quality that made him feel as though he'd unwittingly slipped into a dream. He was in a strange place, after all, with a strange person… no one else around…

"Natsumi!" He jumped to his feet, suddenly remembering. "Where is she? Where is everyone?"

Once more, the doctor chuckled reassuringly. "The young lady became frustrated after you refused to speak to her and left. She's quite a spunky one, isn't she?" His winked warmly at Giroro, then motioned again toward the rail-yard. "She's looking out for her brother now. I've done all I can for him, and he's sleeping a bit more soundly, not thrashing as much. Don't you worry though, Arkham has some of the best psychiatric care in the world – he'll be better in no time."

"Hey, doc!"

Giroro and the doctor both looked up as Peppers shambled up to them, offering Giroro a lazy salute and a cool half-smile. Giroro simply grunted; he reminded him too much of Saburo.

"Been havin' a therapeutic session with our Corporal? Good deal. Hey, I got us some tickets for the 6:35, which is on about a ten minute delay, but we can still go ahead and…"

Giroro stood and walked toward the station, leaving Peppers and the doctor behind.

_This is weird._

He followed the sound of familiar voices toward the station at the rail-yard, trying to sort out in his head everything that had happened.

_First, seven hundred Greaves disappear into thin air. Then, we get attacked by those 'Hounds' that came out of angles. Now, we're somewhere on the other side of Pokopen about to get on a train like nothing ever happened! And what about those Pokopenians? How can they understand us? And why don't they seem to notice we're aliens? And... and how did that one guy know I'm a corporal?!_

He pounded his head in frustration.

_And the craziest thing is, I'm taking this all in stride! Am I not a soldier? What is wrong with me?!_

He sat down with a sigh, regarding the bottle the doctor had given him. He could hear Natsumi's voice just beyond the soot-encrusted brick wall of the station, her every word reaching him like the soothing trickle of cool water. It was familiar and refreshing, but it was also a summons - a call more brilliant than the oscillating beam that was housed atop the distant jetty and flashed across the sea. He wanted to answer that call, to go to her, but he was tired… so tired…

_Hope this works, doc..._

Holding his nose, he lifted the flask to his lips and downed its contents in one fell swallow.

He choked. 

Gasping, lurching, reeling, he tried to stand but was forced back down by dizziness. It wasn't much longer before he finally went unconscious.

He was still unconscious when the 6:35 arrived ten minutes late, and that was how Natsumi found him as she exited the station house to the sound of a low, rumbling whistle.

Apparently, a good shot of strong whiskey had been just what the doctor ordered.


	19. Chapter 19

A low rumble issued from the old locomotive as it sped through the blackness of rural New England. Within the passenger car, Natsumi gazed out the window, her human eyes only able to see a few dim blurs of distant light through the film of condensation that had accumulated on the cold glass surface. She sank back into the worn velour seat, being one of the few in the passenger car that wasn't asleep. It was a well-deserved rest; some of them hadn't slept in over 48 hours. She, at least, had been unconscious for most of the previous day and still retained a bit of energy. But she had to admit, it felt good to rest her aching feet.

She'd given up trying to see the stars. After the pristine skies of Kingsport, it had been very discouraging to look up and see the flashing clusters of Greave ships once again. Her eyes drifted from the window and she slowly let her gaze wander around the inside of the car. The only ones awake besides herself were Mutsumi and Kururu – who were somehow laughing and chatting as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened that day – and the other humans. Peppers was idly strumming a guitar and singing, "Love is… what I got…" while a tall, tough black man whom Peppers had introduced simply as 'Jules' sat next to him fiddling with a gun. Doctor Harvey sat across the aisle reading.

Then there was the woman. Natsumi had already had an encounter with that woman at the station-house in Kingsport.

-

_Her face was ageless, her eyes the deep blue of eternal twilight. She leaned down and gazed at Natsumi from beneath the hood of her faded grey cloak._

_"Where did you learn Japanese?," Natsumi inquired._

_The woman's face betrayed not a scrap of emotion as she replied. "The Dreamer taught us - save Peppers, who can speak in every tongue. Shall I change you back as well?"_

_Natsumi paused, wanting both to accept and decline. She had already seen the woman transform both her mother and Koyuki back into their human forms, and while she longed to return to her own body, she had also come to enjoy being one of the frogs. Finally, after several long moments, she nodded her head and closed her eyes._

_The woman placed a hand on her head. "Very well. Kya-zhen myrk vaal Ibn'Ghazi – Reveal Form."_

_Natsumi felt warmth radiating from the pressure on her forehead, and began to itch as if scales were falling from her…_

_-_

She regarded her hand as she flexed it before her face. She had been in this body for eighteen years, yet it felt so foreign now. Being human again would take getting used to.

_In more ways than just one, _she thought with a glance down at Giroro's unconscious form. _We seemed so alike before, but now…_

"Natsumi-san."

She looked up in surprise at the sound of Mutsumi's voice. "Saburo-senpai! Aren't you tired like everyone else?"

He sighed and plopped down with his characteristic grin. "Of course I am! But I couldn't possibly sleep at a time like this, could I?"

She nodded distantly, gnawing her lip in contemplation. There was once a time when she would have blushed and stuttered just at the thought of having a one-on-one conversation with Saburo-senpai; if she hadn't been so preoccupied, she would have marveled at how much she'd changed in the past year.

He leaned back, noticing her distress but adopting his most casual attitude. "Natchii, can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot," she answered, gazing toward the window.

"When did you stop liking me?"

She snapped her head back to meet him, her eyes wide with shock. "So you _did_ know!"

Mutsumi laughed, his eyes sparkling, and winked playfully at her. "Well, I'm not blind, deaf, or mentally handicapped… so yes, I did take notice. But you kinda cooled off about six months ago. What was the deal?"

She frowned ponderously and picked at a fingernail. "Well, I guess… I guess it was when I realized that you didn't feel the same way. You always treated me just like every other girl, so I started to believe that I'd never have a chance. And, well, life isn't like the movies… people just don't go on liking someone forever that they know they have no chance with. So I gradually… just kinda… forgot about you."

She stopped and picked awkwardly at the edge of her shirt. It was the first time she'd had a heart-to-heart about the subject with her former love and, not surprisingly, she was feeling uncomfortable about it. Mutsumi, however, seemed perfectly cool as he smiled in Giroro's direction.

"Good for you, Natsumi-san. But I have to say… it's a good thing not everyone takes your approach."

Natsumi buried her head in her hands. It was true, Giroro had stood in the shadows for years, silently loving her without hope of reward. "I'm so selfish," she mumbled through her fingers. "I thought we were going to die… I said things… I said I loved him…"

"I think you do, Natchii."

She looked up with red eyes, her voice rising. "How can you say that? He's an alien! Not just any alien, but an invader! Not only are we different species, we're _enemies_, can't anyone see that?! All I did was give him false hope… it just won't work!"

Mutsumi's smile faded, and for several moments he regarded her with an impassive stare. "Natsumi-san," he said finally, "you're not my type."

"I know that!," she snapped. "And I don't care…"

"You're a girl," he interrupted calmly. "And I'm not into girls."

Several moments of deep silence followed in which Natsumi could only blink and work her mouth in surprise. "You… you're…"

He nodded, his lazy smile slowly returning. "It's hard keeping a secret like that when you're a teen idol… especially when someone you consider a good friend is very blatantly in love with you and you don't want to break their heart." The look on his face was genuine as he inquired, "Tell me, Natsumi-san… do you think it's wrong for me to like other guys?"

Natsumi shook her head vehemently. "No, of course not! It's nobody's business but your own!"

Mutsumi smiled as he stood, turning slightly to head back to where Kururu was now sound asleep. "Then, 'If your heart is heavy, perhaps you are using the wrong scale.' Goodnight, Natsumi-san."

Natsumi watched him leave before lowering her eyes to where Giroro's head was resting in her lap. She caressed the side of his face gently with the back of her hand, then sighed and leaned back.

_I wish I could believe him…_

Her eyes drifted shut. The monotonous rumble and the swaying motion of the train were taking a toll on her, and before long even the whirlwind of thoughts in her head could not keep her from joining the others in the welcome haven of sleep.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: **My sincerest apologies for failing to upload on Monday. I was out of town for most of the week without access to a computer - oh, the humanity!

* * *

Momoka nearly choked on the soot-filled air as she stepped off of the train and onto the rickety wooden platform. Peppers exited immediately behind her, his shouldered guitar clattering noisily within its case as he leapt from the car.

"Welcome to Arkham, Massachusetts," he announced with a flourish, "supernatural cesspit of America!"

A supernatural cesspit… Fuyuki would love that, if only he were awake and well enough. Momoka frowned, her eyes involuntarily roaming beyond the filth-stained walls of the decrepit station-house to the streets of the city beyond.

She hated the place already.

In all of her visits to America, she had never seen, or ever expected to see, a place like Arkham. Beneath the black, impervious canopy of night, a few dim oil lamps did their best to reveal intermittent shadows of a city trapped in time. Crumbling brick streets tunneled uninterrupted through strictly-ordered rows of antediluvian structures, the oldest of which likely dated from the earliest colonial days of America; it might have struck her as nostalgic, perhaps even beautiful, had it not been so eerily backward. No humans walked the streets, and despite the visible silhouette of enemy ships above them, there were also no Greaves to be seen… at least, not yet.

To her left, she noticed two of the others, the old doctor and the cloaked woman, bearing Fuyuki between them. After casting a few cautious glances around, they ducked swiftly onto a shadowy road, away from the others.

_What the--?_

Without thinking, she moved to follow them, but was stopped by a hand on her shoulder.

"Lady Momoka." Paul's voice was caring, but firm. "We all do what we must do. And what you must do now is regain your strength."

Momoka continued to watch until Fuyuki had disappeared from sight, then resigned with a sigh. She didn't have the will to fight at the moment; all she could do was trust these strangers to care for Fuyuki, and her. If only she'd told him how she felt before this whole mess started…

"Everybody ready?," came Peppers' familiar voice. "Jules, you got the Corporal? Alright then, everybody stay close and follow me. Sing if you want; it'll scare the Greaves away. 'Yeeeah, there was something in the aaair that night, the staaars were bright, Ferrrnandooo…'"

_So this is what it takes not to go crazy when you're fighting Greaves, _Momoka thought wryly as she followed an Abba-singing Peppers through the dark, silent streets of moldering Arkham_. You have to be crazy to begin with…_

* * *

_Fuyuki..._

From his location in Arkham Sanitarium - east wing, third floor, eighth room, second bed - Fuyuki arose. He had heard the call; it was the call of a lucid dream, one he knew he must answer. Gliding slowly down the hall, he went fully unnoticed by the white-clad nurses and balding old doctors who passed him.

_A glowing exit sign._

This must be it. He stepped into the fluorescent halo of the beacon and pulled open the door to the stairwell, which groaned on its hinges as if in pain.

_Seventy steps descending into blackness._

Forsaking the world which lay behind him, Fuyuki began the climb into deeper sleep, travelling further into darkness until he finally arrived at a level plane. He could see in spite of the darkness, for he no longer looked through physical eyes. Here, however, he was not alone.

_Nasht and Kaman-Tha. The Gatekeepers._

Fuyuki raised his eyes to the faces of the guardians, silently telling them everything they needed to know. Minutes, hours passed in which neither party moved or blinked. Finally, the powerful giants moved aside to reveal their subject passage; he had been judged worthy.

_Seven hundred steps, the winding journey leading beyond the wall of sleep._

He started without question or hesitation, knowing that this was the path of his destiny. After all, he had walked this way numerous times before and knew the way to the world of dreams better than he knew the streets surrounding his own home. He knew he must travel this way once more and heed the call of what lay beyond.

As always, he would forget upon waking. For, to a dream-walker, to wake is to sleep and to dream is to truly live. Now, Fuyuki could not help but smile as he neared the end of the descent, pausing briefly to breath in the familiar air of the other-world.

He was alive once again.

* * *

"So, where are we going?"

Natsumi's question was addressed to the gunman next to her, the man she'd heard Peppers call Jules. She felt she should be intimidated by him; he was massive and muscular, possessed deadly skill and accuracy on the battlefield that nearly rivaled Giroro's, and greeted each encounter, friend and foe, with the same brooding silence in which he perpetually basked. Notwithstanding, she simply didn't find him as threatening as she felt she should… perhaps it was the lingering effects of the serum? At any rate, she wouldn't allow herself to admit that the reason she hung back near him was because she wanted to be close to the unconscious red alien who was draped unceremoniously over his shoulder. Not a chance.

He glanced down at her in response to her question, and for a moment something flashed across his face that seemed to crack the severity of his manner. Embarrassment, maybe? "Sleeping… house?" His speech was broken and slow, and his next statement confirmed what she suspected. "I'm sorry. I don't speak… very good… the Japanese."

She turned her head to hide a smile, but he caught her attention once more by motioning ahead with his free arm. "That is it."

The indicated structure was the largest building on the street: a four-story, ramshackle wooden box, its facade pockmarked with the occasional light that shone through some of the numerous tiny windows. As they drew further, she could hear the muted sound of music and revelers leaking from its interior, and above the double doors she noticed a time-weathered old sign bearing the words, "Ma's Boarding House."

"Ah, here we are!," Peppers called from the front of the line, "the most hospitable place in Arkham!" He opened the door and ushered them in; Natsumi caught a strong whiff of perfume and smoke that made her wrinkle her nose, but it was better than the scent of the city – that lingering odor of stagnancy and decay that saturated every square inch of Arkham's streets reminded her too much of her earlier encounter with the Greaves – and she eagerly hurried in behind the others as Peppers continued to talk. "…better than the YMCA! You can get a hot meal, a comfortable bed…"

A shotgun blast exploded through the doorframe next to her just before her head erupted with intense pain. Warm, red liquid flowed into her eyes and mouth, and in her panic she believed she'd been shot.

"Easy, Ma! They're just aliens – friends!"

She could hear what was happening, but the blood was stinging her eyes and she couldn't see. Head throbbing, she sank to the ground and felt a strong hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry. Are you okay?" Of course. She hadn't been shot; she'd been shoved out of the way and hit her head on the corner of the doorframe, rupturing an existing wound that Giroro had inflicted earlier that day. Painfully wiping blood from her eyes, she nodded and stood.

"…never be too careful with all these damn Greaves around," came a female voice. Natsumi blinked several times and could make out the figure of a commanding woman before them. As she turned to put away the shotgun and reach for a cigarette, Natsumi was able to get a slightly better look at her; she was tall and lithe, with platinum blond hair and heavy make-up, whose garish outfit consisted of a skin-tight, leopard-print vest over a black leather mini-skirt, with fishnet stockings and thigh-high black stiletto boots adorning her muscular legs. After several moments of looking at her, Natsumi gasped as she came to a sudden realization – the woman was a prostitute.

"You're… you're having us stay in a brothel?!"

Peppers shuffled his feet uncomfortably. "Like I said, it's the most hospitable place in town… and it'll be a good place for you to rest up and recover your strength before… er… but nevermind that now. What's important is that all of you need to _eat_. And _sleep_."

Natsumi massaged her aching head, which did little to appease the relentless pounding. He was right, however – she was exhausted in every way imaginable, and having only eaten protein supplements and light snacks in the past two days, her stomach was now writhing at the thought of a full meal.

"There's one thing I have to warn you all about before 'Ma' shows you to your rooms, though." Peppers looked around, making sure that every eye was locked on his before he continued. "You guys haven't slept very much until now… and while it may not seem like it, that's actually a good thing. But you're about to go into a very deep, very long sleep. It's alright – sleep as long as you need to shake off that battle fatigue and jet lag… or, rather, gate lag. But," his expression became serious, "in a sleep like this, you'll almost certainly be having some kind of dreams. _Be careful of your dreams!_ You know how they say 'What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas?' Oh… I guess you wouldn't... well, anway, let's just say that in times like this, that saying doesn't necessarily hold true for dreams. In fact, you may very well find yourself in a dream come true – and trust me, that's not always a good thing."

Natsumi cast an involuntary glance up at Giroro and sighed deeply. Monsters invading… loved ones going crazy… dreams becoming real… nothing was true in her life anymore; everything she'd ever known had been altered or taken away, and even if she lived to see the end of it, nothing would ever be the same. She felt numb – nothing should be able to hurt her anymore.

_And yet…_

Acute pain jolted through her head as she shook it once roughly. She was trying to forget what had happened earlier that day before the battle, trying to forget that moment… that kiss…

By now, Peppers had disappeared into the sprawling common room and was singing loudly again, attempting to flirt with the girls who were on duty. "That's whatcha get for fallin' in love, now I'm addicted 'cause your kiss is the drug! Whoo-ooah, your looove is like baaad mediciiiine! Baaad medicine is what I neeeed..."

* * *

Outside, Keroro sat hidden in the shadows, staring dumbly down at the Kero Ball in his hands. He was glad he had managed to get away from the Platoon to make this call - he didn't want them to see their leader worried, after all - but how was he going to deliver the message? In his mind, he rehearsed several ways of breaking the news, his hands trembling and his eyes glinting with tears as he did so.

_I made a call when I noticed that reinforcements were late in arriving..._

_Headquarters regrets to inform us..._

_All Keronian fleets have been ordered to retreat and are returning to Keron._

_Our home is being invaded._


	21. Chapter 21

**Notice: **'Life is but a dream...' Anyway, time for a little sexy! Nothing graphic, but it is important plot-wise so I don't recommend you skip it.

* * *

**I'm still more of a genius.**

Mutsumi smirked at Kururu's text as he snapped his cell phone shut. The comment could wait until morning – as soon as he was rested up, he would gladly show his poor, misguided yellow friend who was the real genius.

He pulled of his hat and rolled over on the bed, but before he had even closed his eyes the sound of someone knocking on his door drove him back to his feet. _Huh. Who could it be now?..._

He was not at all prepared for who stood waiting behind the door, although given their quarters he probably should have been. She looked barely over nineteen, and her body was a blend of lean and voluptuous – a recipe for almost unnatural perfection. The young woman was anything but bashful; she wore only a black lace babydoll that left nothing to the imagination and her confident smile and demeanor made it clear who she was and what she was after. Mutsumi gaped at her, his mouth becoming dry as he attempted vainly to make words.

"I, uh… I…," he finally made out, "I'm not very… interested… thank you very much…"

She pushed him back against the bed quickly to silence him and he suddenly found himself pressed violently against her barely-clad body. "And… and I don't have any money anyway!," he gasped, trying to wrench himself away from her advances, "So I really… I really don't think…"

"Listen very carefully to what I say," the girl hissed suddenly in his ear. Mutsumi stopped, his ears perking up with curiosity. He knew English well enough, although her heavy Bostonian accent was somewhat difficult for him to interpret. What interested him, however, was that her voice did not match her behavior; in fact, it reflected something like urgency… or fear.

"What is it?," he murmured, trying to ignore the feel of her arms and breasts sliding against him. He had already accepted that he would never love a woman – he had tried already and failed – but even for a guy like him, a situation like this could be pretty distracting.

The girl pressed her face into his neck before moving back up to his ear, and in that brief instant he could see her eyes flash toward the door and back. What was she so afraid of? Were they being watched? "Beware Nyarlethotep," she whispered.

He swallowed. "Who is… Nyarlathotep?"

She moaned loudly and pulled him down onto the bed, on top of her. Mutsumi groaned, but he wasn't sure if it was from vexation or something else. This woman was a damn good actress. "Nyarlathotep…," she murmured. "He is called the Crawling Chaos, the beast of a thousand forms. If you find him, do not speak to him – don't even listen to him!" Once more, she glanced nervously toward the door before continuing. "He walks this Earth under numerous guises, deceiving all he meets. He is the soul and messenger of the cruel and ancient Outer Gods; readily he enacts their will..."

"Reba!," came a familiar woman's voice from outside, causing the girl to jerk up in surprise. "Are you in there?!"

She hesitated, then answered reluctantly. "Yes, Ma." Moments later the door opened and Ma appeared, a nearly-spent cigarette in her hand and a bemused look on her face.

"Tryin' to make an extra buck off the clock? I don't think so, girly… go on, get outta here." She waved toward the door, and the younger woman sighed before begrudgingly standing as if to leave.

"Actually," Mutsumi interrupted, "I sent for her." He put on his most charming face as he winked in Ma's direction; he wanted to hear more of what the girl had to say. "I've got cash?"

"Sorry, kiddo," she sighed as she absently flicked some ashes to the floor. The younger woman – Reba – hastily followed Ma's repeated gesture to exit the room, leaving the two of them alone. "Peppers asked that I make sure you guys are undisturbed, and even though he's more than a decade my junior I have to respect what he asks. The boy may not look like much, but he's smarter than most people give him credit for."

Mutsumi chuckled silently to himself. _Kind of like a certain green Sergeant I could think of…_

Ma grinned and tossed the remnants of her dying cigarette to the floor, which she crushed with the toe of her boot. "Heard about what you and them aliens did over in Japan… takin' a crazy stand like that against all them Greaves. I appreciate it. We all do. Need all the help we can get." She took hold of the door and turned to exit, still smiling bemusedly in Mutsumi's direction. "Y'know," she commented, "I don't know you, but I can tell you're a good kid. Kinda remind me of my son." With a retaliatory wink, she pulled the door the rest of the way shut, leaving Mustumi alone in the darkness with his thoughts.

_Nyarlathotep, huh? I wonder what that was all about?..._

* * *

Fuyuki toyed with a tankard of strong-smelling wine as he casually observed the inside of the tavern. He had no intention of drinking, of course, but he didn't want to draw attention to himself by sitting alone and doing nothing. Someone would be coming to meet him soon, and until then it was best to keep a low profile.

The port city known as Dylath-Leen was the largest in the Dreamlands and possessed a uniquely sinister beauty. Her tall, angular spires were carved directly from the surrounding bedrock of black basalt, giving them the appearance of numerous towering stalagmites. Surrounding the expansive coastline were countless wharves, inns, and taverns such as the one in which he now sat; they were a popular retreat for those reclusive citizens of Dylath-Leen, their inconspicuous walls offering sanctuary from the cosmopolitan everyday.

"Ah! There you are!"

Fuyuki turned and smiled at the sight of his familiar consort, red-haired man whose ageless face bore numerous tattoos – the signs of a Dreamer. "You're late," he commented jokingly.

"For a Dreamer, there is neither late nor early," the older man replied with a laugh. "It is good to see you again, Fuyuki. How are your sister and mother? They are well, I hope?"

Fuyuki nodded and offered his drink to the newcomer. "As well as can be expected with all that has happened… I believe they're in Arkham now, with the others."

The Dreamer smiled. "Good. I knew I could count on Peppers to retrieve you safely." He sniffed the wine and, judging it to be safe and of good quality, took a tentative sip. "Things, however, are still bleak – surely you know this. The servants of the Tattered King have increased their hold on Earth and are now moving in on other worlds, including Keron."

Fuyuki frowned grimly. "Not to mention the hounds… they're still alive, and they won't stop pursuing us – or rather, me." He paused and gazed out the nearby window over the moonlit sea. "What is the situation with the dimensional rifts? How much time do we have?"

"We're sealing them as fast as we can," answered the Dreamer with a sigh, "but they continue to open at a faster rate. It doesn't help that Nyarlathotep has taken an interest in the situation and is working to block our every move…" He looked up at Fuyuki with a smile. "We mustn't lose hope though. With you and the others on our side, we will do everything we can to prevent the King in Yellow from entering the world."

They sat there in the tavern for the better part of the night in intense discussion, and just as the first rays of dawn were beginning to reach out over the water the Dreamer finally stood and ushered Fuyuki to do the same. "...anyway, you need to get back to Arkham now, son; I also have things that need to be done here before I return. In the meantime, I suggest you stay away from high-level spells in the Necronomicon." He winked, and Fuyuki smiled at him one last time as he turned for the door.

"Sure thing. I'll see you soon, dad."

* * *

_All my life I've considered the battlefield my home. _

_Looking out now, I'm beginning to think I hate this home._

_I'm not exactly sure how I got here… this battle was fought a decade ago, at least, but I remember every detail like it was only yesterday. The air is hot and dry; it doesn't even feel like Keron anymore. And the smell… there's nothing like that smell, the smell of burnt flesh – even if you only catch a whiff of it once, it will never leave you no matter how long you live. _

_All these bodies in the trenches… wait, is that Sumemei? I remember when he died; we lost too many good soldiers like him that day. And I was almost one of them. _

_More and more, I think I'm really hating this place._

_What am I doing here again?..._

_"Maybe you're looking for answers?" I turn around. It's a god-damned Greave sitting there, just… __**sitting there**__… looking out into the setting sun and talking philosophy. Ah, to hell with it - I don't feel like fighting anymore. I sit down and talk over the smoldering remains of my fellow Keronians. _

_"You expect me to believe you have answers?"_

_It shrugs. "Not necessarily. However, I do believe you and I aren't so different."_

_I grunt to indicate that it'd better not piss me off. I don't think it's fooled; I know I'm not. Still, I think I'd better try anyway. "Hmph. I'm nothing like you."_

_"If you say so," it drawls, stretching out leisurely on the blood-stained grass. "But the way I see it, we're two of a kind. Peas in a pod, you could say." I want to argue, but for whatever reason I keep listening as he continues. "We live for death, the death of others. It's the thrill of looking into our enemies' eyes and seeing them go cold, the victory of seeing the work our hand – such power is our love, our life, our beauty. It is the only mistress we will ever need."_

_He's wrong. Or, at least I think he's wrong. _

…_Is he wrong?_

"_No," I say. I think there's something else, something that's more important to me than this. Something that I… love?... "No, no that's not right…"_

_The Greave is silent. Damn him! He's getting to me, getting in my head… but he can't be right, there's no way he's right. I remember something… something from long ago – or maybe not so long ago – that made me fight with myself the way I'm fighting now. Or am I really fighting? I think I'm just giving up, sitting back and waiting for someone to come save me… just like that time… just like… when…_

_Wait! Yes… yes, that's it! "N-Natsumi!" I jump to my feet as the memory comes rushing back. I don't live for this – I live for someone, a woman, a Pokopenian that I once considered an enemy! "Natsumi! Natsumiii!"_

_I run. I need to find her, but more than that, I need to get away from that mind-sucking Greave. I can't see it, but I know it's still watching me, laughing to itself because it thinks it's won. I want to kill it, but I won't; I'm not going to be like it is – I'm not going to prove it right. I'm going to find Natsumi. I know she can't be far, because I've finally realized where I am._

_I'm in a dream._

_And even though it's just a dream, when I find her I'm going to make love to her like it's real. _

_I've decided, and it's all thanks to that hell-blasted Greave. My life is going to change, starting today. _


	22. Chapter 22

Balance. A ninja's life was all about balance. That was what Dororo did now – balance, perched on a fine boundary that was somewhere between fully asleep and fully alert, on the floor next to his companion.

He hadn't been placed in a room with Koyuki, of course. The recent foray of monsters in Arkham had resulted in a predictable exodus of travelers, leaving the boarding house free to offer each of the group their own private room. Some of them had refused; Aki, for instance, chose to stay with Natsumi, while a few of the platoon members opted to room together in the event that trouble would arise. He, however, wanted to be near Koyuki.

A troubled murmur from her direction caused him to snap alert for what must have been the twentieth time that night. He had been disturbed by what Peppers had told them about dreams, and was not willing to leave anything to chance. After all, the girl before him was more than just his closest friend and constant companion; she was an extension of himself, a part of him as crucial as his lungs and heart. When he had arrived on Earth four years earlier he was an assassin, a natural killer and sworn enemy of the humans; it was she who had found him after he was separated from the others – alone, injured, trapped – and, in caring for him, had introduced him to the true beauty of the planet he now called home. She, of all others, had never forgotten or overlooked him; she gave his life meaning.

"Dororo," she whimpered in her sleep.

His brow creased with concern. There had been something behind the way she said his name – something uncharacteristic of her, something close to… _fear_. What was she dreaming of? She twitched; her breathing was steadily becoming faster and more ragged, and she gripped the edge of the blanket as if her life depended on it.

"Do-doro… ro…"

It sounded like a call for help, and it wrenched at the ninja's heart. Whatever was happening to her, it needed to stop. He reached out his hand to wake her, but never made contact. She convulsed once, violently, then her eyes flew open and she bolted upright with an unearthly shriek.

"_Dororo!!_"

He wasn't sure what happened first, it all seemed to happen so fast. Koyuki was screaming, sobbing, not yet fully awake, as his head flew forward and his body doubled over, white-hot pain seizing his gut, wrenching away every ounce of strength, he toppled over writhing, he heard Koyuki calling distantly for help… pain… blood… blackness…

* * *

"What's his condition?"

"Bad. Clean puncture, which is a positive, and went south of his heart by a hair but managed to nick his liver. Oh, and I guess massive blood loss goes without saying?"

"Did she say what it was?"

"Can't get a word out of her, too upset. Think you can do anything for him?"

The cloaked woman with eyes of twilight did not slow her stride as she gave him a brief, but meaningful, glance up. "I come from sixty generations of witches, Peppers. My skills with Ruach are unmatched."

Peppers flicked his eyes back at her, displaying none of his usual mirth. "Right-ho. That's what I like to hear."

He flung open the old wooden door and stepped back to allow her entrance. On the floor lay Dororo, his pallid form shockingly visible against the glistening crimson pool in which he lay. The old doctor, Harvey Jones, was at his side applying pressure to a blood-soaked dressing; upon seeing them enter, he drew up with a brief nod in their direction. The only others in the room were Koyuki, who was staring beyond Dororo's body as if in shock, and Keroro, who refused to leave while one of his men was injured.

Peppers leaned down and took Koyuki by the shoulders, forcing her to look into his eyes. "Listen," he said, gently, "I know it's hard for you, but this is very, very important. I need you to tell me what happened. What in your dream did this to him?"

She stared blankly at him, a single tear rolling down her cheek. "I killed Dororo… I… I killed him…"

"He's not dead," Peppers said, somewhat forcefully. "He's not going to die, and none of this is your fault. We can't control what we dream. Now, tell me what happened!"

Koyuki glanced at Dororo; she couldn't see much around the cloaked woman, who was crouched over him with her back to them both. "I… it was a woman," she started, then choked.

Peppers nodded patiently. He seemed relieved. "A human, then?"

She paused and wiped her face on her sleeve. "No," she answered finally, "like Dororo."

"So a Keronian?" muttered Keroro.

She nodded. "She was yellow, dark yellow... and she had a red hat and dark red eyes, and, and…" She paused to gulp down the rising sobs that were impeding her speech; by now, her whole body had begun trembling uncontrollably. "She... she had a crazy smile, and a long sword, and she held it up at him and then she said… then she said…"

Peppers held up a hand to stop her; they knew all they needed to know, so she needn't suffer more. He looked over his shoulder at the witch.

"Sword wound – that's good, actually. How's it lookin, V?"

The woman did not answer. She was deep in concentration, eyes closed, right hand hovering mere inches above the gaping wound. Her fingers twitched rhythmically, as if tugging the strings of a tiny, invisible marionette, and her mouth moved silently as it formed a silent spell. Peppers watched a moment, then stood definitively.

"Right," he said to no one in particular, "since they've got this under control – at least for now – I'm going to go wake the others. Rested or not, it's too dangerous to let them sleep any longer." He glanced back; Keroro, too, was standing as if to exit. "You're coming too, Sarge?"

Keroro nodded grimly. "I have to assemble the platoon, de arimasu. There is an important piece of news I must deliver."

They stepped into the hall and shut the door, breathing in the relatively fresh air. Nearby, a few of Ma's girls turned their heads and pretended not to stare as the two of them passed; apparently, word of the incident had spread quickly.

"So," asked Peppers, "just out of curiosity, do you happen to know the Keronian that girl was talking about?"

Keroro gritted his teeth. He felt so much older than he wanted to right now. He wished, silently, that he could go back to his room beneath the Hinata household, blissfully building Gunpla and watching reruns of Admiral Geroro, and he had even begun to miss things like scrubbing toilets and Natsumi's random ass-beatings.

"Yes," he answered finally. "I know her. Her name was Kalili."


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N:** Please don't be too hard on me for taking a hiatus. It's been quite a difficult couple of months (see my profile). I told you I'd be back in January though! Also, please note that I'll only be updating on Tuesdays from now on because of my tight schedule. Thanks for being patient! :)

* * *

Just to the north of downtown Arkham, a dark figure crouched in the shadows beneath the gnarled roots of an overturned elm. His sharp eyes never left the landscape around him as his hands worked swiftly and skillfully, removing an expended magazine from the chamber of his M1 carbine and snapping a fresh one in its place. Movement had stopped for the time being, which was a blessing. Just beyond the sparse, skeletal landscape of Arkham's memorial park – a cheerless intersection known as Independence Square – he could see the nearby outline of Arkham sanitarium. It was the only building of its kind in the city, the defining feature of which was an imposing center tower in the antiquated Second Empire style, flanked by a mansard roof of cold, grey slate which capped high, rigid stone walls and rows of strictly-ordered gothic windows. Such a structure stood against the night sky as if it were an unrelenting guardian, a challenger prepared to thwart the entrance of anyone unworthy. These halls were for the clinically insane; everyone else had no place there.

"Jules? Can I get a status report? Over."

The gunman jumped slightly as Peppers' voice crackled through the walky-talky at his side. Cursing softly under his breath, he picked up the receiver and radioed back. "Yeah, I'm at Independence Square, holdin' em back from the Asylum."

"You mean they're still going for him?!"

"I think so. Haven't seen any in a while though. Mighta killed 'em all in this area... hold on while I take a look." He readied the rifle and peered around his makeshift shelter, watching intently for signs of life. Nothing moved, save a few dead leaves that skittered across the brick sidewalk, and as he took a few careful steps out he took care to avoid a nearby pile of decaying limbs – the only remains of what had once been a Greave. "That's affirmative. Everything looks clean… here…"

His voice trailed off as a slight movement from the sky caught his attention. High above, an icy wind rattled through the barren treetops as the massive invading ships began to drift away at once, moving further out into Earth's atmosphere as swiftly as they had come.

"So everything's good, right? We can bring him back to the rest of us?"

Jules frowned and lowered his weapon, never taking his gaze from the sky as he lifted the walky-talky and responded. "Yeah… you might wanna look outside though. Seems they've finished their work and are moving on to the next stage."

There was a long pause on the other end of the receiver before Peppers finally responded.

"Ten-four."

* * *

Every room in the boarding house was equipped with a private, western-style bath. That was where Natsumi now stood, breathing heavily as she stared into the cold running water that flowed between her fingers. She'd been shocked by the dream – not just by its content but its vividness. As she scrubbed absently at her numbing hands, images flashed unbidden into her memory, causing her to redden and grow hot.

_It was just a dream… just a dream…_

She splashed a handful of the freezing water on her face, the momentary shock bringing her closer to her senses. She shivered as she blew the excess drops from her nose and mouth, but didn't bother to wipe off the rest. She felt somewhat reassured by its presence; cold was painful, and pain made her feel real.

"Natsumi? Is everything okay in there?"

She hastily shut off the water and ran a hand across her face. "Yeah mom," she called over her shoulder toward the door. "I'm fine, just give me a minute." She couldn't let her mom see her like this; shaking her head roughly, she tried to sort out her thoughts. Six or so hours of sleep had left her feeling somewhat rested, but no less disoriented. Of course, it was the dream that troubled her; part of her still reveled in the memory of it, but that feeling was marginalized by a burgeoning sense of fear. In her mind, she knew that simply saying the words "just a dream" wouldn't really make it "just a dream," and the presence of a throbbing pain and fresh blood between her legs served only to confirm the reality of what had occurred that evening. But the worst part of it all, the most terrifying thing on her mind at the moment, was how much she had enjoyed it, how she never wanted it to end.

_I don't love him… I don't…_

"Natsumi, we need to go. Do you need any help?"

Natsumi sighed and straightened her hair in the mirror; hopefully her mother wouldn't notice anything. She opened the door and forced a smile. "Ready when you are, mom."

* * *

Keroro's jaw hung limply, his eyes nearly bulging out of his skull. He had come here to deliver important news, but for the moment, whatever feelings of duty and despair he previously felt had been totally supplanted by shock. "Wh-whoa! Giroro, that's… that's so awesome, de arimasu!"

Giroro snarled in his direction, his eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. "It is _not_ awesome! It is the exact _opposite _of awesome! And stop staring at me like that. It makes you look even stupider than usual!"

Leaving the dumbfounded sergeant behind, Giroro whirled around and exited the room in a fury. How had this happened? And where the hell was he? As he rounded a corner and stepped into another hallway, a few Pokopenian women standing nearby cut their eyes in his direction and giggled amongst themselves; he paid them no attention and pressed onward until he heard the voice he was searching for.

As his foot made contact with the door, it flew open with an ear-splitting crash, causing the occupant – the Pokopenian leader called Peppers – to jerk around in surprise and drop the communication device he was holding. "Whoa! What the… um… hi?" He cocked an eyebrow and stepped back warily. "Listen, I don't know who sent you, but I'm kinda busy right now… not to mention I don't really do the whole 'gay for pay' thing, so…"

"Clothes," interrupted Giroro, lowering his eyes abashedly. "I need clothes."

Clearly Peppers hadn't been aware of who he was addressing, because his eyes suddenly widened and his breath caught in his throat. "No way," he whispered, leaning forward for a better look. "Corporal… is that you?" A few seconds passed, then the other man's face spread into a wide grin. "That is so _awesome!_"

Giroro set his jaw and looked even further away, trying to overcome the humiliation he felt. It was bad enough that he was trapped in the form of one of his lifelong enemies, looking and feeling as they did, but because of the new perspective he now experienced something he had never felt as a Keronian: the shame of being naked, exposed in all his weakness. And to make matters worse, everyone else seemed to be enjoying it!

"Clothes," he repeated forcefully. "Give me clothes. I can't let Natsu… I mean… anyone see me like this."

Peppers regarded him momentarily, then offered a sympathetic nod. "I think you can wear my size. C'mon, let's see what I've got." He crossed the room and yanked open the door to a small closet, the floor of which was strewn with loosely-folded garments. "Hm… first of all, underwear." He pulled out a pair of boxers, whimsically ornamented with little yellow ducks. "You can keep those," he commented as he tossed them to Giroro. "Here's some jeans, lemme know if they're too loose. And as for a shirt, how about… Wiggly Piggly?" He held up a pink t-shirt bearing the image of a grinning cartoon pig, to which Giroro delivered a deadpan stare. "No? Alright then, we'll go with… oh! Perfect!" He pulled out an oversized black t-shirt, upon which was displayed a large white skull. "Punisher!" He announced gleefully, handing over the garment.

Giroro took the clothes gratefully and began experimenting with putting them on. "Thank you," he muttered, then quickly added, "I still don't like you though."

Peppers donned his familiar lopsided grin and turned to the door, allowing him to dress in privacy. "That's a shame, cause I'm kind of a great guy. I take it this happened in a dream, huh?"

Giroro had been concentrating on the task at hand, so it took a few seconds for the question to register. With all the recent commotion he had completely forgotten the dream, and the sudden remembrance of its contents caused his face to prickle with heat. Come to think of it, he _had_ been Pokopenian when he and Natsumi…

"I don't know," he lied, trying to force down the feelings that the memory had conjured. "I can't remember." He set his mind on the problem of buttoning his pants, hoping that the Pokopenian wouldn't push the issue further. Fortunately, he simply shrugged and moved to exit.

"Alright, well, meeting in the lobby in five. Shit's goin' down, and now that you guys are rested I'm obligated to explain what's going on." He cracked open the door and slipped out, adding on his way out, "Oh, by the way, Sarge wanted to see you. I think he had something important to tell the platoon."

Giroro watched the door close, then proceeded to yank the shirt over his head with some difficulty. Whatever Keroro had to say, it had better be good; he was in no mood for any more excitement right now.

* * *

"Zeroro… Zeroro…"

The assassin squinted in protest; the light in the area was actually quite dim, but to his weak eyes it seemed unbearably brilliant. Before him, or perhaps above him, undefined shapes rippled and danced before his vision; judging them not worth the pain of fighting his natural instincts, he allowed his eyes to adjust before opening them fully.

He was not on Earth. In fact, he was fairly certain that this was not even in the same universe as Earth. Nothing seemed attached, nothing seemed to fit together right; the inky black sky drifted beneath his feet, while the sea churned and boiled high above his head. A nearby patch of wrongly-shaped ground invited him to step forward, but when he did so the shallow incline behaved as if it were steep, and he found himself tumbling upward against what should have been gravity.

"You cannot yet navigate this world. Take my hand – I will guide you."

He was now upside down, unable to see the speaker but aware of where he should reach. He extended his arm and felt pressure in his side, and although it made no logical sense he was certain his hand was now inside his own chest.

"Follow."

He obeyed, his perception of the world around him dissolving into something more substantial.

"You are now in Lost Carcosa."

At the same time in Arkham, Koyuki's screams resounded through every room in the boarding house as she watched Dororo's body fade from existence.


	24. Chapter 24

Being well into the dark, early-morning hours on this side of earth, the common room of the boarding house was mostly abandoned. A large Hispanic woman shuffled around the disarray of antique furniture while maneuvering a large yellow cleaning cart; occasionally she would glance sideways at the four beings in the far corner – one a teenage girl, and three other things that kind of looked like frogs – that sat in a close circle and spoke in tense, hushed voices. Flinging her towel into the bucket of sanitizing solution, she turned and wheeled her cart back through the double doors that led to the kitchen. Nothing about this town surprised her anymore – aliens, monsters… whatever they were, it was none of her business.

"Gunsou-san," Tamama whimpered, the rest of the room now empty. "I… I'm scared."

Keroro placed a reassuring hand on his second private's shoulder. "Hey hey, don't worry about Dororo. He's one of the strongest Kerons around – if he can't make it, no one can. And as for Pokopen… well... well, we'll just have to think of something else is all, de arimasu!"

"But uncle, the Keron Army was our only chance," Moa replied sadly. "You could say, all out of options?"

Keroro frowned and glanced around. The three others looked utterly dejected, and although he felt every bit as downcast as the rest of them, he knew he had to do something to improve morale or risk losing his platoon. "What about you, Sergeant Major Kururu? Do you have any intelligence to report?"

Kururu reached in his mouth and retrieved a small piece of gum he'd been slowly chewing on. Without so much as a smirk, he stuck it to the bottom of a nearby table and looked away. "Nah, sorry boss. I left my equipment on the other side of Pokopen; without it, I'm dead in the water."

As the group lapsed into silence once more, Keroro could only resign and watch the others begin to trickle in. Dororo had nearly lost his life, Giroro had lost his Keronity, Tamama had lost his fighting spirit, Moa had lost her cheerful optimism, and now even Kururu had lost his sense of humor. "I'm sorry everyone," he whispered softly, "I've failed you."

* * *

Momoka yawned once again and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes as she stepped into the bright lights of the common room. "Paul," she muttered, "how is it that you never get tired?"

Her bodyguard glanced down at her, a lighthearted twinkle betraying his austere demeanor. "Calisthenics," he replied simply, and ushered her to a nearby seat. She rolled her eyes and sat down, unsure if he was being serious; probably not, but knowing him she wouldn't doubt it.

"Momotchii! Paul! I'm so glad you're alright, desu!"

Momoka whirled around at the sound of Tamama's voice, desperately wishing to find the platoon with Fuyuki in their company. Upon seeing only the three aliens and Moa, her other half nearly flew into a berserk rage; however, upon seeing the almost tearful relief on her alien friend's face she checked herself, and delivered the team her most gracious young-lady-Nishizawa smile. "Good morning, everyone. I'm glad to see you're well."

A few more people began to appear: Peppers appeared – now sporting an oversized suede coat and a grungy t-shirt that read "Please Wait to be Seated" – along with the cloaked woman with eyes of twilight, followed by Natsumi and Aki (but no Fuyuki, unfortunately), then Saburo, and finally an oddly-disheveled Koyuki in the company of the kindly old doctor. Momoka watched them all as they chatted among themselves, silently grinding her teeth in frustration. Where was he? Had everyone else forgotten?

"Alright everyone," Peppers announced from the center of the room, "thanks for showing up on such short notice and, uh, with such little sleep. I'm pretty sure you're all wondering why we brought you here, so if you could kind of make a circle here… I'll have Ma round us up some kinda meal while I explain a few things."

Momoka's stomach grumbled audibly at the thought of food; the hasty meal she'd eaten six hours ago was long past gone, and her empty stomach seemed to be cursing her for the uncomfortable reminder. Looking around, she noticed she wasn't the only one.

"First of all," Peppers continued, "I should probably give you an update on the outside situation. The good news is that the Greaves have completely left Earth, probably setting their sights on other planets. But don't celebrate too soon; the fact is that a lot of people are dead. Last I heard the number was at about 1.2 billion, and that number is going to keep rising exponentially despite the fact that the Greaves are gone."

Momoka felt like she'd been kicked in the chest. Trembling, she lowered her head into her hands in horror. Nearly one fifth of all people in the world… ten times the population of Japan… and still more were going to die? "How… how can that be?" She wondered aloud. "Shouldn't the killing stop now that those things are gone? Why is this happening?..."

The cloaked witch acknowledged her question with a tight-lipped frown. "It is because Greaves do not kill people," she replied in nearly perfect Japanese. "Greaves latch onto their victims and feed on their sanity, causing them to kill one another."

"Wait," interrupted Keroro from across the room. "You're wrong about that, de arimasu. We know Greaves kill people, we've _seen_ it! Giroro, Dororo and I, we once found a ship full of people they'd killed, with only the captain left alive…"

His voice trailed off as he looked to Peppers, who shook his head slowly in response.

"Think about it, Sarge – why would they leave just one person alive?"

* * *

"This is impossible. You're dead."

The being before him turned, her blood-red gaze piercing his being with such power and depth that it almost felt reassuring. He could almost believe that she really _was_ Kalili, a warrior deserving to be called First Lieutenant in the Keronian Army.

"_That is not dead which can eternal lie_," she intoned, "_and with strange aeons even death may die_."

Several days of silence lapsed as they continued their ephemeral voyage, for time did not pass the same in the lost world of Carcosa as in any world he'd ever been to. The fact that he could now physically traverse the terrain did not make it any less fantastic: high above him, deep black oceans lapped at inverted shores of craggy mountains, the likes of which bore little resemblance to the wafting plains of cloud and grass upon which he and his companion now strode. Once he found himself walking beside a vast expanse of water that he assumed to be the same ocean as the one in the sky, but upon closer observation he noted that it was of a deep purple hue, and that deep within its basin shone two spectral moons – not reflections, but real _moons_.

"Why did you bring me here?" He inquired in time.

This time she did not face him, but he could hear her voice as plainly as before. Once again, her reply was cryptic. "As atonement for my sins." Her golden form seemed to blur before him, threatening to flicker from existence, but as she fixed him once more with her crimson gaze she shifted back into focus as if through raw determination. "You saved me once," she continued, "and I have repaid that debt. Now you must save us all."

That was all there was to say. The two of them fell into silence once more, taking in only the sound of the turbid waves that rolled above them, as they continued their Escherian voyage through the land of Carcosa.


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: Be honest. Do you think I should up the rating on this story?**

* * *

Giroro was not in the common room with everyone else, but he heard everything that was going on. He stood in a narrow hallway nearby, far enough away that he was hidden from sight but close enough that his demon ears could hear every word being said. In the end, he hadn't been able to face his platoon, mostly for fear of being ridiculed.

_That jerk Kururu would almost certainly have something smart-ass to say._

He sighed. Of course, the platoon was one thing, but Natsumi… he felt a tinge of regret at avoiding her. Last night in his dream he said he was a changed man. He said he'd do anything for her – quit the Army, become human, marry her, settle down…

_Well, of course it's easy to say things like that when you're looking to score. Actually finding yourself in that situation… and so suddenly at that…_

"Sweep."

He looked up, startled, at the approach of the housekeeper and her wheeled cart. She waved a broom at him impatiently, motioning toward the other end of the hall. "I need sweep. You move, okay?"

With a reluctant grunt, he moved to the end of the hall, where he was well out of her way but could still hear the conversation in the other room. Unfortunately, he was now standing next to a drafty window which did little to prohibit the icy air coming in from outside. He shivered, pulling his arms in against his chest, and as he did so he noticed a faint, familiar smell coming from outside. It was sweet, and rank, and metallic; and he had smelled it on the battlefield countless times.

Twisting around the nearest corner, he wandered through several corridors until he found a back door. It groaned loudly and refused to open, as if forbidding him access to whatever lay beyond; finally, after several tries, he heaved his entire weight against the door and it caved, pitching him into the wooded blackness behind the building. It took his eyes several minutes to adjust, but the smell was just as strong as ever. Using it as his guide, he picked his way through the darkness until a faint outline came into his vision. It was a small wooden shack, something like an old outbuilding, and as he came close enough to make out more detail it became clear where the smell was coming from – and the sight was enough to make even the seasoned war veteran step back in horror.

It was hung across the back wall of the shed, arms stretched out and pinned like a crucifix. What was left of the body indicated that it had once been female, but little more was recognizable other than that; various pieces strung the wall like a canvas, in a way that was close to yet very different from the method of the Greaves. But the worst part was the blood, for the blood had been smeared above and around the body in an otherworldly symbol – a twisted glyph resembling a triskelion or some tentacled beast – and beneath it read a series of words that were incomprehensible to Giroro. Yet, at the sight of them, he felt a terror unlike any that he had ever known, causing him to turn and run with all his might in the direction he had come. Yet even after he had returned to the sanctuary of the boarding house, shaking and panting with his back against a wall and the sound of muted conversation echoing from the common room, the image and the words still burned in his memory.

"_Ië, Hastur!  
The King in Yellow!"_

* * *

Natsumi frowned and cast yet another glance around the room. She tried to tell herself she wasn't looking for him; she wasn't worried about him; that she didn't want to see him. After all, with everything else that was happening right now, that really should be the least of her problems, right?

"Natsumi," came a familiar whisper at her shoulder. Koyuki had not let go of her arm since they'd arrived, and Natsumi wasn't surprised. From what her friend had told her, she'd had probably the worst night of all of them. "Where is Giroro?"

Natsumi almost choked with surprise. It was as if Koyuki had read her mind. "I don't know," she admitted, putting on an air of indifference. "Wherever he is, I'm sure he can take care of himself. But… what about you? Aren't you worried about Dororo?"

Her friend smiled up at her, and she felt instantly reassured. "No," she replied cheerfully, "Dororo and I have a special bond. I don't know why, but… even though he's disappeared, I can still feel him. I know he's still alive, wherever he is, and that he's safe."

Natsumi nodded, not entirely understanding but glad to see her friend feeling better.

"And now for the next order of business," Peppers announced from the front of the room. "I'm sure you'd all like to know about the condition of your friend, Fuyuki."

Natsumi's head jerked up and she leaned forward; out of the corner of her eye she wasn't the only one, but she was too concerned for her brother to care.

"Well, you'll be glad to know that he's as good as he ever was," he continued. "And that you'll be able to see him here in a few minutes. But first, there's something very important that you should all know about him. It has to do with the reason you were all brought here to begin with…"

* * *

"I'm a what?"

The muscular black gunsman shouldered his rifle and glanced down at Fuyuki, inwardly glad that he didn't have to speak Japanese. "A Dreamer. It's a rare person born with the ability to see the future and travel to other worlds through their dreams."

"No way!" Exclaimed Fuyuki, his eyes gleaming. "I have supernatural powers? I had no idea…"

"Sure you did," Jules interrupted. "Like, haven't you ever noticed that when you have dreams, they tend to come true? Think about when the aliens from Keron first came to you, or when you drew in that Nevula and his doll."

Fuyuki paused. "You mean, Gunso and Alisa… they came to me because I dreamt it?"

"In a way," the man replied with a slight shrug. "Dreamers like you are highly powerful, and because of that you tend to unknowingly attract other supernatural entities like a magnet. Aliens, demons… even monsters like Greaves and Hounds… they're all drawn to you by unseen forces of nature." He frowned grimly. "But there are others that want to get their hands on you, servants of dark powers who want to kill you, or use you for their own ends. In fact, most Dreamers have already been killed or converted, which was why we needed to get you to safety as quickly as possible."

Fuyuki was silent for a few moments, taking it all in. "If that's the case," he said slowly, "how do I know I can trust you?"

"You don't," he answered simply. "But your father trusts us, so maybe that's proof enough."

"My… my father?!" Fuyuki gasped. "You mean he's…"

Jules nodded. "He's here. And as the only remaining free Dreamers, you two may be the last hope humanity's got."

* * *

Near the edge of Planet Keron's atmosphere, a deafening explosion shook the left side of a lone platoon ship as it maneuvered in and around the swarm of enemy vessels.

"Lieutenant!" An irate voice crackled over a nearby transmitter. "What the hell do you think you're doing? Your fight is down here!"

Without pausing, the ship's captain heaved away the transmitter with a grunt of disgust and immediately began barking orders to his crew. "Battle systems up! Tororo, I want a full status report on that last impact! Private Taruru, you'll join me at the battle stations while Pururu guides us out of this hell-hole. Let's move! Move!!"

The inside of the ship buzzed with activity as the team went to work, fighting for their lives against the seemingly neverending tide of Greaves. Once more the vehicle jerked violently to escape the enemy's clutches; the enemy wasn't attacking them, exactly, but those bristling nodes of electric fire that lined the outside of their ships could easily draw one in, proving deadly. As the ship straightened, the transmitter clattered across the floor toward the captain, all the while spewing the voice of his infuriated superior.

"Lieutenant Garuru! You are _ordered_ to stand down and return to surface _at once_! Failure to do so will be considered an act of treason against the Keronian…"

Garuru bent down and seized the transmitter. "Now you listen here," he hissed dangerously. "Go ahead and try me for treason if you want. Pretty damned low considering all I've done for you people, but if that's what gets you off then go right ahead. But as for me, I'm going to Pokopen to get our platoon back! Considering it's our own fault they got stuck there in the first place, the very least we can do is not serve them a death sentence by sitting back and protecting our own worthless necks!"

Without waiting for another word, he slammed the transmitter into the nearest wall, causing it to shatter. "Pururu!" He roared. "Get us through these gods-damned things and get us to Pokopen!"

The medic turned to him briefly with a smile of admiration.

"Aye aye, Lieutenant Garuru, sir!"


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: **I'm not dead, but I wish I could say I was - if only because it would be an adequate excuse for the amount of time I've taken between postings. A two year hiatus is disgraceful, and even more so is my excuse: plain and simple writer's block. I do apologize for the wait, but I simply could NOT think of where I wanted to go story-wise from here. But now I have decided, and I hope that you, dear readers, will find it to your liking!

Oh, and as an aside... I once was asked if Peppers was representative of myself. The answer is actually, no. Peppers is a personification of my favorite pizza place. No joke.

* * *

The significance of time was lost upon the land of Carcosa. For Zeroro, the hours turned effortlessly into days, and the days stretched on into countless months and years. The convoluted landscape which had once seemed so bizarre was now commonplace; he and his ethereal companion traversed its mangled seas and swirling mountains with ease, never stopping for sleep or nourishment. Nothing changed, save the occasional swirling of yellow tendrils that seemed to marbleize the world above them – the billowing garments of the Tattered King as he stirred in restless slumber.

"He grows more impatient," Kalili commented one day, her blood-red eyes cast warily toward the heavens. "Zeroro… be alert. We are approaching the end of our journey."

Zeroro kept his eyes focused ahead. In the distance shone a dim golden haze, a distinct landmark pulsing against the darkness of the King in Yellow's shadowy realm. A familiar feeling tugged at his insides; he wanted to run, to reach his destination faster, but knowing it would do no good he could only resign and continue at Kalili's speed.

"What is it?" He inquired.

"You know what they are."

He did, and with restless anticipation he kept his eyes focused on the horizon until the scene suddenly burst into glorious focus, filling his vision with the most overwhelming sight he'd ever beheld.

They were gates. Thousands of them. At first appearance, it looked like one giant tear in the wall of reality, but as he looked closer he could distinguish each individual portal as a glimmering circle framing the interior of another world. Shielding his eyes against the brilliance, Zeroro approached one and gazed through with wonder at a barren world whose stony grey landscape was scattered with twisted columns.

"The Great Abyss," Kalili explained briefly. "Come, Zeroro. Time is short."

Tearing his eyes from the fascinating sight, the Keronian approached the portal to which his guide motioned. Beyond it lay a city that seemed to resonate in his memory, as if he had once been there, a very long time ago. It was a cold, antiquated place with worn brick sidewalks and high, sloping roofs – a place that was heavy with fear and decay.

_Arkham._

"What must I do?" He asked.

Kalili placed a hand on the sword at her side, her eyes briefly flickering over the sea of gates above and around them. "These openings are the means by which the Greaves were able to enter our world. If enough of them are open… the King in Yellow will enter through them as well."

Zeroro frowned. "They must be closed, then."

Kalili nodded, and for the first time since their encounter her piercing red eyes reflected a hint of sadness as she looked through the gate into Arkham. "I will give you my strength to seal this gate. Look closely, Zeroro." She pointed to the edge of the gate, and he bent down to observe. Upon inspection, he could see that the rim of the portal which seemed to be made of light was actually composed of millions of tiny fibers; as he watched, he could see them unraveling, tearing away from one another and drifting free into unknown aeons. "What you see are the threads of space-time that separate this reality from our own. If not repaired, this universe – Carcosa – will dissolve into ours, and the King in Yellow and his Greaves will have free reign over all worlds contained within. Now… reach out your hand and grasp the threads."

Zeroro hesitated, watching the frail tendrils wither and detach before him. Taking a deep breath, he caught hold of several and began to pull inward. To his surprise, the delicate-looking threads refused to yield, and it took a good deal of trying before they began to move at all.

"You must seal the gate with both strength and knowledge," Kalili interjected. "Move through the gate, and I will help you."

Zeroro did as he was told, stepping into the cold night air of lower Massachusetts as his companion began to recite in an alien tongue.

"_Ky'ia rachr niyn-bar chihlach j'nkhai szrah…"_

Once again, he reached for the edge of the gate. The words simultaneously terrified him and filled him with an unnatural strength, and as he began to pull once more he could feel the fabric of the universe stretching inward beneath his fingers, filling the gap in reality. It took every ounce of physical and mental force he could summon; straining, knuckles whitened, sweat pouring down his face and stinging his eyes, he buckled down and pulled with all his might. As the edges of the gate finally came together and pinched closed, the ninja let out an uncharacteristic howl of triumph and collapsed backward, panting heavily. Kalili was gone, sealed for eternity along with the gate, and he found himself alone, bewildered and exhausted in the dark, silent streets of Arkham.

But they weren't to be silent much longer.

* * *

Natsumi was shaking, huddled over in the oversized sofa, with her eyes downcast and a trail of goosebumps visible on her exposed arms. She suspected that it was only partly due to the cold, which cut through her clothing like a razor despite the nearby fire that cast a pulsing glow across the common room. In truth, it was more a chill of fear, of knowledge that she was in a situation where there was nothing she could do to protect the ones she loved. All her life she had seen herself as a guardian; Fuyuki had never been as physically strong as her, and although he was book-smart he didn't possess her intuition and quick reflexes, so she took it upon herself to protect her brother. But if what Peppers was saying was true…

She looked down in surprise at the feel of Koyuki's hand squeezing her own. "Dororo is back," her friend whispered, the relief palpable in her voice. She looked over with a smile, and as she did so Natsumi felt the tension within herself ease somewhat. At least something was going right for someone. She smiled and squeezed back.

"So what can we do to help?"

Everyone turned at the sudden sound of Aki's voice, including Natsumi. To her surprise, her mother showed none of the worry that Natsumi herself felt. In fact, her face seemed to glow with what looked like pride – pride in her youngest child and his important place in Earth's destiny. No matter the situation, it seemed, Aki Hinata would never despair. Natsumi couldn't help but smile.

"Glad you asked!" Peppers grinned broadly in Aki's direction as a flung his backpack onto the table and began rummaging around inside. "This," he continued as he produced a large sheet of vellum, "is a map of Arkham." Unfolding the map, he motioned everyone closer before stabbing at the lower right corner with his finger. "Right here is the boarding house, where we are. You guys came from the train station…" He slid his finger upward and to the left. "… here."

"What are all those red things?" Keroro interrupted.

Natsumi craned her neck to get a better look, and could see dozens of tiny red symbols dotting the map. Peppers pursed his lips and nodded.

"Ah. I was just getting to that. Those are the gates – portals to other dimensions, like the one I used to bring you here. The open ones at least. These," he motioned to one of a few blue symbols, "are ones that we've sealed." He sighed heavily. "As you can see, we've got a long way to go. They started opening not long before the Greaves landed and we've been busting our asses trying to close them ever since. But there's only six of us, and god knows how many gates… plus we've got all those Greaves, Hounds, and batshit cultists to deal with…"

Natsumi chewed on her lower lip, not entirely sure what Peppers was asking them to do. "So… what happens if we don't close all the gates?"

Peppers looked her straight in the eye, and though his reply made little sense it sent a chill through her spine nonetheless.

"Then the King in Yellow appears."

The room fell into an uneasy silence. As Peppers began to roll up the map, Natsumi sat back in her seat and shivered once more. Sitting caused her another stab of pain between her legs, and she couldn't help but wish yet again that Giroro were there. Or at least that she knew where he was.

The sounds of fighting suddenly erupted from the back of the boarding house and Natsumi instinctively leaped to her feet, with Koyuki immediately following her example. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Peppers and the cloaked woman both looking like cats ready to pounce, and even the kindly old Doctor had a face like stone.

_Is it the Greaves? _She tensed, her fists clenched so tightly her fingernails dug into her palms. _Or could it be something worse?_

Female voices shouted between crashes and bangs, but just as Peppers began to rise to his feet the sounds subsided and Ma strode into the common area, disheveled but unhurt. Even with her stockings torn and her hair undone she was an imposing figure; her eyes flashed with the ferocity of a warhorse returning from battle.

"Reba's dead," she announced flatly. From across the room, Natsumi thought she heard Mutsumi uttered a strangled gasp. "We found a strange man wandering around the scene," Ma continued in a cold voice, her eyes on Peppers. "Not sure if he had anything to do with this, but I had my girls subdue him and bring him to you anyway. Maybe you'll know what to do with him."

The wide double doors swung open and two young women emerged, half-dragging between them a staggering figure. His blond hair was matted with blood and he wore a stunned expression, yet Natsumi sensed something familiar in him. She leaned forward for a closer look at his face….

_"Don't," she whispered. It was a poor attempt at a protest; even as the words left her lips she pulled his face closer to hers and sank into a deeper kiss. He groaned with what could have been pleasure or vexation._

_"Why not?"_

_She sighed softly as his lips trailed down the side of her neck. "It won't last. You look like this now, but…" She cut off with a gasp as his mouth connected with a surprisingly sensitive area at the base of her neck. He chuckled and gave it a quick nibble, which caused her toes to curl with excitement._

_"If this is what you want," he murmured against her skin, "then you'll have it. Whatever you want… I'll do it." He looked up at her, and she knew he meant it. His blue eyes bore into her own with a fire and intensity she couldn't imagine any other creature – alien or human – possessing…_

It was into those same eyes she now found herself looking, and as the realization hit her she staggered back with a gasp.

"My God… Giroro!"


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N:** I probably should've done this sooner... but, time to give credit where credit is due. The following characters are my creation, and are based off of various pizza restaurants, NFL stars, board games, and songs by the Beatles: Maxwell Peppers (aka. "Peppers); PFC Julius White, the ex-marine (aka. "Jules"); Veruca, the witch; Harvey Jones, the doctor; Ma, the brothel owner; and Kyrie Peppers, the autistic savant (aka. "Blackbird" – we haven't met her yet). The Greaves are mine as well.

The following characters and locations are not my own creations, but are elements of the Cthulhu Mythos by H.P. Lovecraft: Arkham, MA; Kingsport, MA; Hounds of Tindalos (aka. "The Hounds"); Lost Carcosa; The Dreamlands; Nyarlathotep.

The King in Yellow comes from the eponymous book by Robert W. Chambers. It is fantastic, and if you enjoy this kind of writing (ie. things that psych you out) I highly recommend it. Also recommended is H.P. Lovecraft's _The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath._ The writing style is a bit convoluted, and it contains some *ahem* items of a controversial nature (mostly racism, circa 1925) but it will probably help you understand where I'm going with all this.

And now for stuff you actually care about. :)

* * *

Bodies could be disguised, but the soul could not. Each soul carried a distinct wavelength – a unique resonance indistinguishable to most, but as clear to the trained ninja as the scent of a physical body. Being caught off-guard, there was an instant in which Koyuki did not immediately recognize Giroro for who he was, but it lasted only a brief second before the reality sank in.

"Natsumi, what's happened to Giroro? Natsumi?"

Natsumi didn't answer. She had slumped to her knees, her eyes wide and mouth moving wordlessly in an expression of stunned disbelief. She didn't even appear to notice as Koyuki reached out to lay a supporting hand on her shoulder; the two of them had faced an army of Greaves, witnessed the destruction of millions of their people, been ripped through time and space to somewhere desolate and strange halfway across the world, and been all but promised that they, along with the rest of the world, would almost certainly not survive. Even after all that, her friend had remained strong, refusing to let her will be broken by whatever hardships were thrown at her – a testament to how much of a fighter she truly was. But now… now it seemed the fighter had been defeated. Everything else she could face, but now she had met something she truly didn't know how to cope with.

Talking erupted from all sides, and as everyone began discussing what should be done, Koyuki realized that there was nothing she could do here. True, these were her friends, and it would be right for her to stay and support them. But there was something else she needed to do right now. Somewhere she needed to be.

Using the momentary distraction to her advantage, she slipped into the shadows and darted out into the night. Or was it night? An air of perpetual darkness seemed to hang around this place regardless of the time of day, and Koyuki could detect the resonance of innumerable unknown creatures all around her. This place was wrong; it was unnatural. She had never seen or experienced anything like it, and that was saying quite a bit. But she could still detect one resonance that was familiar; this particular resonance had been with her nonstop for the past four years – nonstop, save for ninety agonizing minutes she never hoped to repeat.

Feeling it tug at her from north and east, she darted onto a nearby rooftop for a better vantage point. The gambrel roofs on these buildings were tall and deeply sloped, their slate tiles offering a slick surface with poor footholds, but Koyuki knew what she was doing. Pausing only a heartbeat to scout her next landing, she hopped from rooftop to rooftop, feeling Dororo's tug growing ever stronger. Before she knew it, she had skidded from the rooftops and onto the cold stone streets, running blindly as fast as she could. She didn't feel the freezing wind as it whipped her hair against her face, nor the hard, uneven stones that pounded against her feet and threatened to trip her with each step. She felt only one thing, and it drove her. She needed it more than she needed anything, more than she had ever needed anything in her life.

And then, there it was.

Dororo had been running toward her at nearly the same speed, his own desperation mirroring her own, and in the instant their bodies collided and intertwined, the entire world seemed to slow and then stop. Nothing moved, nothing lived, nothing existed but the two of them. A sob of relief burst from her throat as she sunk to the ground, grasping him so tightly she could barely breathe. At the moment, she felt she didn't need to. All she needed was right here.

"Koyuki-dono…"

He combed his fingers through her hair as she wept, whispering gently that everything would be okay. That he was back, and he would never leave her again. And, finally, one more thing that made her choke on her tears and cling to him even more tightly.

That he loved her.

* * *

To say that Giroro felt like shit was an understatement. Ironically, the beating he'd received from the Madame had helped clear his mind a little; while the blood-smeared words remained embedded in his mind, they didn't invoke the kind of terror he'd felt upon first seeing them. _Hastur._ Had that been a name? It felt like a name, for some reason, but he also felt that it was the kind of name that would damn him to say it aloud. _Hastur. The King in Yellow. _He shuddered.

Keroro certainly wasn't helping his headache any. He and Peppers were standing not two feet away arguing loudly over who should be the one to "take care" of him. And then there was that damn Kururu! Sitting there poking him, as if confirming that he really was what he thought he was, all the while laughing that obnoxious laugh of his! It was all enough to make Giroro want to punch someone.

"So… it was real, wasn't it?"

He jumped and reddened. Natsumi was immediately behind him, her soft voice like the caress of a feather against his ear. The sudden thrill of hearing her made it take a moment for him to register what she'd said, and when he did, his breath caught in his chest. Had she…? No. No, it was impossible.

"It was just a dream," he whispered when he could finally speak again. She shook her head and laid one hand gently on his shoulder. When she spoke, her voice was so low it was barely audible.

"No," she murmured into his ear. "It wasn't just a dream."

The sound of her voice… the feel of her touch… not to mention what she was saying. Giroro suppressed a shiver and felt himself burning even hotter. And that stupid Pokopenian anatomy! He tried to cross his legs and prayed the moment would pass without anyone noticing. To his left, he heard Kururu chuckle knowingly, and gritted his teeth.

"Did you mean what you said?" She continued. "About… about being human? You'd really do that for me?"

He turned and looked into her eyes for the first time. Those endless, red-brown depths seemed to plead with him; they reflected an earnest longing, an aching desire. She not only wanted him to say yes – she was terrified that he would say anything different. But he couldn't answer, not yet. Not until he knew for certain what he had hoped since the beginning but only recently begun to believe.

"Natsumi… do you love me?"

She froze, and he immediately saw the conflict on her face. She wanted to say yes, he could see it in her eyes, but she was struggling inside herself. Struggling to let go, to admit that she loved an invader – an alien. Struggling to accept the difficulties that such a decision would make, and the direction that it might take her. It was a life-changing decision for her, and he knew it. She knew it. But would she accept it anyway?

"I… I do," she whispered suddenly, her eyes widening as if not believing what she herself was saying. "Giroro… I love you."

Giroro's head swam. Barely conscious of what he was doing, he reached up one hand to her face and pulled her down into a gentle kiss. Their lips met. Warm. Soft. Wet. _Perfect._ He felt dizzy with ecstasy.

"Uh… hey, Giroro?"

Keroro's voice snapped him back to reality, and he suddenly became aware of the silence in the room. Looking up, he saw every eye in the room fixated on Natsumi and himself – save Aki and the doctor, who were looking away politely but with knowing smiles – and immediately flushed a deep red. "Keroro," Giroro muttered through gritted teeth, "if we survive through this, I'm going to kill you."

"Yeah, yeah," Keroro replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. "For now, what you've gotta do is tell this Pokopenian here that, as a member of this platoon, you're under my command and not his. And that wherever I go, you go. Right?"

"Wrong."

More than half of the room jumped visibly at the sound of a stranger's voice, a stranger they had never heard enter the room. Giroro turned in the direction of the voice and, looking closely, was able to make out a shadowy figure near the door. His body and head were shrouded in what looked like Grecian robes; the only parts of him that were visible were two heavily tattooed hands, and a pair of piercing red eyes that stared not so much at Giroro as into him. Giroro felt a shiver down his spine; this newcomer made him uneasy, and he seemed not to be the only one.

"He comes with me," the intruder continued, moving forward. His piercing red eyes never left Giroro's face, and although his figure moved closer into the light, the obscuring shadows around his body never receded. Giroro shifted uncomfortably, hoping for once that Peppers would come to his rescue and chase the newcomer away. Interestingly – and unfortunately – however, Peppers deferred to the stranger with a slight bow.

"Well!" He exclaimed with a clap of his hands. "That settles it then! Now, who wants to be in charge of gate…"

Giroro didn't hear anything else that Peppers had to say. Before anyone – himself included – could protest, the robed intruder had Giroro on his feet and out the door. He wasn't even sure how it happened; as far as he could tell, the man never even laid a hand on him. But he followed him. It was the last thing he wanted to do, but he found himself following nonetheless.

Through countless twisting streets and alleys Giroro followed, the heavy silence broken only by the occasional gust of icy wind as it moaned between rows of dark, abandoned buildings. His guide never once spoke, nor did he give any indication of where they were about to go. Giroro simply followed, his actions driven by some extrinsic compulsion. The further they walked, the more untamed the landscape became, the structured rows of stone buildings fading into darkened groves of numerous twisted trees. Onward still through the blackened forest he followed, wanting to run but unable to stop himself. Onward, and onward.

After an indeterminate amount of time, the robed stranger finally whirled to a stop. As if cued, Giroro did the same and found himself staring into two piercing red eyes which glowed in the moonlight.

"Corporal Giroro," the man said softly. "I've been looking forward to meeting you for a long time. A very long time."

Giroro barely had time to process the words. A flash of silver appeared in one of the tattooed hands, and within seconds he was gasping for breath, having been thrown backward by an invisible force into the trunk of a massive oak. In the dim light he could see the piercing red eyes slowly walking toward him, and a bit lower the man's right hand grasping a large, wicked-looking blade – the hilt of which curved downward and wrapped around his right wrist. No, not just around it; those spindly tendrils around the base continued down _into_ his arm, extending beneath his skin and pulsing in rhythm with his own veins.

Giroro's mind went numb with terror. He wanted to struggle, to break free of the invisible bonds that held him, but his body refused to cooperate. He watched helplessly as the blade rose to his throat; those burning red eyes were mere inches from his now.

"Wh-who are you?" He managed hoarsely. "Why did you want to meet me?"

The red eyes didn't blink, just continued to stare. Inwardly, Giroro was scrambling with raw panic; he would rather face Greaves, or Hounds, or _anything_ other than this sinister being with his red-eyed stare and his pulsing, blood-fueled dagger.

"_Who are you?" _He screamed, trying fruitlessly to distance his flesh from the edge of the blade.

The eyes didn't change. The blade didn't move. But, finally, the man spoke. His voice was low and dangerous, like the scraping of a knife against whetstone. "I am called the Dreamer, Corporal. Dreams are my domain. I walk them freely, interpret them and learn from them. I've learned many things in my lifetime. Many dark and dangerous things. And I've learned them from observing my dreams, and the dreams of others. Dreams of people like you."

At that last one, the voice took on a more dangerous note. It reminded Giroro of a hissing serpent, the last sound an unfortunate frog would hear before being eaten. "But what do you want with me?" His voice held an audible tremble, and he didn't even care.

There were a few more moments of torturous silence in which the man's red eyes bore into his own. "In a previous life," he finally answered, "I was called by another name. That name was Haruki. Haruki… Hinata."

Giroro's eyes grew wide as he made the immediate connection. Even without control of his body, he felt his knees weaken and his heart race.

"That's right," the man continued, his voice and gaze never changing, "I'm Natsumi's father. And I know what you did. I know what you did to my daughter." He shifted the knife against Giroro's throat as if to remind him that it was there. "And now, you've got two minutes to convince me not to spill every drop of blood in your worthless body." His red eyes hardened; he was deathly serious. Giroro wanted to weep.

"Well? Get talking, alien scum."


	28. Chapter 28

A/N: Zack is a master of badass-itude. I wish I could be half the man he is. If you liked Haruki in the last chapter, don't thank me - thank the Belmont.

* * *

"We're here. Better get ready to answer a whole lot of questions, kid."

Fuyuki paused a moment to regard the structure that the gunman had motioned to. Something about it tickled at the back of his memory, as if he had been there once as a very small child, yet nothing about it struck him out of the ordinary other than the fact that it appeared slightly less antiquarian than the other buildings in Arkham. From inside, he could hear quite a bit of commotion in what must have been the common area.

He took a step forward, and was startled by the door suddenly flinging open and two figures striding out into the night. Neither appeared to notice him at first, but after a moment the one in the lead – a tall, shadowy figure with a commanding presence – turned to him, and for a split second his eyes made contact with those of the other man. In that instant, staring into those glowing, red eyes, he suddenly felt like a switch had gone off inside him; knowledge flooded into him like a dam breaking, a crushing tide of memories that threatened to sweep him under and suffocate him even after the pair had disappeared out of sight. He remembered everything now – everything he had done in his dreams, everything that he had learned about the King in Yellow and the peril they were in, everything that he and his father had been planning from the very beginning…

_My father..._

He suddenly gasped and staggered against a nearby wall. His stalwart companion immediately rushed to aid him, but he waved him away with a faint gesture.

"Don't… Julius…"

Private First Class Julius White, a former marine turned hunter of the supernatural. Fuyuki remembered that as if from someone else's life; he remembered everything about everyone inside that boarding house. Everyone was waiting in there for him, worrying about him. His mother, the sergeant, Natsumi…

_No, not her! Not my sister!_

He also remembered his responsibilities, the terrible burden that lay upon him as the last of the remaining Dreamers. He knew the unspeakable deeds he would have to commit, the pain he would have to cause, in order to save the human race. In the end, he might fail anyway.

_And Momoka…_

That last memory wrenched at his gut like a red-hot dagger; he bit his tongue against the sobs that were fighting to get out, and tasted blood trickling into his mouth from the effort.

"Julius," he said finally, not able to meet the man's eyes, "I need you to go inside and tell Maxwell… tell him it's happened." His vision blurred, and he felt tears stinging his eyes. "I… I also need you to bring my sister out. Don't tell them who I am, or what it's about. I can't answer any questions right now."

In a lot of ways, Julius had always reminded Fuyuki of Giroro. Dangerously lethal on the battlefield, but with an enormous depth of unseen character – a man who dedicated himself to fighting not for the sake of glory or power, but for honor. And then, of course, there was love: an unrequited and impossible love. He was a good man. Fuyuki didn't hear his response or see him walk away, but as soon as heard the door of the boarding house slam shut he sank to the ground and let the tears flow freely. The heat streaming down his cheeks made him acutely aware of the freezing night air as it caressed his exposed arms and legs, soaking into him with a chill that went bone-deep.

Cold. This city was always cold. If he hoped to ward off the horrors that lurked in its every crack and crevice, he knew he needed one thing.

He needed to be just as cold as it was.

* * *

Giroro swallowed carefully, feeling the razor-thin edge of the dagger against the soft skin at the base of his throat. A single hair's width in the wrong direction, and it would open his veins for certain. A single bead of sweat trickled down his forehead despite the cold and stung his eyes, but he didn't dare move. He hardly even dared breathe.

"Your two minutes are ticking, alien. Better start talking." The haunting red eyes inched closer in the darkness, the rasping voice now barely above a whisper. "So, what makes you think you're good enough for my daughter?"

He tried frantically to think of an answer that would satisfy this beast, but his mind was blank and the only thing he could think of was the truth. He knew it wasn't enough – the truth was more likely than anything to get him killed – but it was all he had.

"I…" He winced, feeling the blade dig further into him as he spoke. Silently, he wondered if it had broken the skin yet. "I'm not," he managed finally, forcing the dagger out of his mind. "I'm not good enough for her." He sucked in a deep breath and continued, not even caring about the words that were coming out of his mouth. He simply spoke the truth. "I must have gotten lucky, because I know I didn't do anything to deserve her. I don't think anyone deserves a woman like her." He squeezed his eyes closed, knowing that if he didn't there would be tears streaming down his face. "So that's it, I'm just lucky. The luckiest man in the universe, in fact. I got lucky just by meeting her, and fell in love with her as soon as I met her, and by the good grace of whatever gods are out there she somehow came to love me too. I'll never know why, but that's how it is. And as long as there's breath in my body, no matter how long that may be, I'm going to keep loving her because I don't know how to stop. She's got me tied up, beaten me, and I can't get away, I don't want to, because she's just so… so… _perfect._"

He stopped rambling and gasped for breath. Half of his mind was on the dagger, and the other half on his two minutes, wondering if they were up yet. Even if they weren't, he had said all he could; there was nothing left to say. Ten excruciating seconds passed – they felt like ten minutes – but finally the hand holding the dagger seemed to relax, and the piercing red eyes slid further back. After several more long minutes of silence, the man lowered his hand – the dagger receding into his sleeve as he did so – and turned away from Giroro. As soon as the eye contact was broken, Giroro felt the invisible bonds that had been holding him slip from his body, and he collapsed against the base of the tree. Panting, he reached one hand up to his throat and found, to his relief, that the skin was still intact.

"Why?" He gasped as he attempted to stand. "Why did you want to kill me?"

The Dreamer whirled around and revealed his face. It was covered in stange tattooed designs much like his hands, but otherwise he now looked like any regular Pokopenian. His large, red eyes no longer held the piercing chill they had just moments earlier; rather, he had the expression of a man tormented, driven by loyalty to the family he loved and his own terrible responsibilities. Had he not still been such a clearly dangerous man, Giroro would have found him pitiable.

"Because," Haruki hissed, "I saw you have sex with my daughter! My _teenage _daughter!" He stabbed one tattooed finger violently in Giroro's direction. "I'm being very generous, Corporal, by choosing to ignore the fact that you're an alien. Not just any alien, but one who came here for the purpose of invading – to enslave us, or worse! But no, no. Even that aside, you're a grown man. You've got to be, at minimum, twice as old as her! Now, let me ask you… if it was your daughter, and you witnessed something like that, how would you feel?"

Giroro chewed on his lower lip uncomfortably. The man had a point. "If it was my daughter… he'd probably already be in a trash bag," he admitted.

The man hunched over and massaged his temples with his knuckles. In the moonlight, Giroro could see a few grey streaks in his deep red hair; suddenly, he looked not so much a dangerous opponent as a tired old man. He really did feel pity for him.

"And it's not just that," Haruki groaned. "In doing so, you've done something worse. So much worse. And now she's fallen in love with you!"

Giroro frowned and shuffled his feet. "Hey, I'm not _that_ bad of a guy…"

The Dreamer sighed. "No… no, I suppose you're not." He paused, looking skyward as if remembering. "Everyone else may see a grown woman in her. To me, Natsumi is still my little girl. She may not know it, but there were times I was there for her as she was growing up." He walked over next to Giroro and sat down with a sigh. "I was there on the day of her triathlon, you know. It meant so much to her that you were there to help her through the three-legged race. As such, it meant a lot to me as well." His red eyes actually held a degree of warmth as he looked over at Giroro. "You have taken good care of her, and I am appreciative. But… appreciation has its limits."

Giroro regarded him for a few moments, then sat down next to him. His mind was racing with questions – questions about his ability, about Arkham and Peppers, about Natsumi and the fate of Pokopen and a million other things – but there was one thing that bothered him more than anything. Normally, something like this would have seemed trivial in light of everything else that was happening around them, but at the moment it was all he could think about. "What kind of knife is that?"

Haruki's eyes jerked toward him as if surprised. He withdrew his right arm and watched as the veins broke the surface like the arms of a jellyfish, braiding together into a pulsing spiral which he gripped with his right hand. Almost instantly, the blade materialized at the end of column – a wide sheet of bluish-black metal which gleamed like glass in the moonlight. Giroro shuddered, but didn't take his eyes off it.

"I'm glad you asked," the Dreamer replied, turning it over slowly as if admiring. "This is a pugio. A pugio of blood, forged in Carcosa. If it so much as draws a single drop of blood for your body, that wound will never heal. You'll bleed out slowly, over the course of years if necessary, but nothing – not even supernatural healing – can close it." Giroro winced and unconsciously rubbed one hand along his throat; he was fine, but the thought that he had been so close to death just moments earlier was nerve-rattling. "Also," he continued, "when it touches the blood of another, its owner absorbs a bit of that person's power. If it drains all of their blood, the owner gains all of their power. The only downside is, if the owner is ever separated from the blade, they die almost immediately. The blade then seeks out a new owner." He grimaced and put away the blade. "It is an abomination. No one should be able to possess such a powerful and terrible item."

Giroro frowned uneasily. "How did you come to own it?"

Haruki shrugged. "I killed its former owner," he stated simply, then lapsed into an uneasy silence which Giroro didn't dare break. Finally he stood and stretched, his joints cracking painfully. Turning, he faced Giroro with red eyes that were, strangely, full of sadness. "Corporal," he said slowly, "you don't know it yet, but you've been chosen for a great honor. It is a great task, and a difficult one." Giroro felt a lump form in his throat – that sad look in the Dreamer's eyes made him nervous about what secrets the man knew. "What I need to know before I deliver you this task," he continued, "is how far you are willing to go. How far will you go for my daughter? Are you willing to die for her? Yes, yes of course you are. But will you be subjected to countless insanities, an abyss of horrors that man was never meant to know of? Are you prepared for the possibility of mutilation, or being reduced to a useless vegetable on her behalf? Would you be willing to have her widowed, helpless and alone, crying out for you in the night and never fighting release? Well, man? Answer me!"

Giroro stared, stunned by the sudden vicious interrogation. "Of… of course. I'd do anything for her."

The Dreamer's eyes narrowed and became hard once again. "Even if you had to hurt her to do it?"

Giroro frowned, then set his jaw resolutely and met the man's gaze. "What is it I need to do?"

Haruki's red eyes held his for a few moments more, then he nodded and motioned Giroro over to him. "Sit down, Corporal. There's something I have to tell you. And I'm going to warn you… it's not going to be easy for you to hear."

* * *

Tororo winced as the assassin next to him ran a long, metal claw across the floor next to him, producing a nerve-grating, high-pitched screech. It was a nervous habit of Zoruru's; ever since he had lost "scent" of his rival, Zeroro, he had been doing it almost non-stop, and it was about to drive the young hacker up the wall.

"Could you please _not do that?_"

The assassin turned and stared at him wordlessly with one large, cybernetic eye. Toruru sighed and turned back to his instruments – impossible to reason with one so single-minded. One of the meters before him flashed red several times and he groaned.

_Stupid old ship… how am I supposed to work with this glitchy equipment?_

He reached out a hand to reset the machine, then froze. There was no malfunction; the system was working normally, everything else displaying the proper readouts, except this one which was showing a huge abnormality. Should he try and fix it? No… probably best to let the lieutenant know about this. Just in case.

"Hey, boss," he drawled over his shoulder, "I'm showing a gravitational abnormality, about 1.37 AU's ahead, -56.7 degrees. Not big enough to be a black hole… to be honest, I've never really seen anything like it."

Garuru was on his feet and next to him before he could blink. Tororo couldn't help but shiver a little; even at ease, his leader possessed a dangerous grace. He would hate to get on his bad side. "Pull me up a visual, Recruit. Pururu, reduce speed less 0.1 AU's and maneuver -20.0 degrees starboard. Let's see if we can identify this… anomaly."

"Aye aye, sir," Tororo replied, and heard the medic echo him from across the ship. He reached out and activated a series of switches – to an untrained viewer it would have undoubtably looked complex, but he had done it so many times it had become rote memory – and a large screen slowly rolled out in front of him. The screen hummed to life and an image crackled into existence, and after a few moments Tororo became aware that his mouth was hanging open almost to his chest. He snapped it shut abruptly, hoping the rest of the crew was as bewildered by the sight as he was.

"Ah… hey, boss? What is that thing?"

Garuru didn't answer immediately, just looked at the image with an unreadable expression. On the screen was what looked like an immense, swirling ring of light, its boundaries framing an icy, barren landscape. It almost looked like some kind of portal. Or gate. "Tororo," the lieutenant finally said, "pull up our records. Find out what planet that is, and what star system it's in."

T he recruit didn't waste time. His fingers flew as he queried the vast Keronian star log, and finally found what he was looking for. When he did, he couldn't suppress a cry of astonishment.

"Whoa! Boss… according to the computer, we're near a planet called Yuggoth. Pokopenians have a different name for it – they call it 'Pluto.'" He looked up at the lieutenant, whose eyes had widened with recognition. "That's Pokopen's system through the gate!"

Without a moment's hesitation, Garuru whirled around and began issuing orders. "Pururu, set course for that gate – I want us in Pokopen's system within the hour! Taruru! Yuggoth is a nasty planet; I want the main guns readied in the event of hostilities. Zoruru…"

The ship instantly became abuzz with activity, the air of tension and anticipation nearly tactile as they prepared to jump through the gate. None of them was entirely sure what they would find once they were there, but there was one thing they were sure of, and it was enough to drive them onward.

They were one step closer to rescuing their platoon.


	29. Chapter 29

"Uncle, you're shaking?"

Keroro glanced over at Mois, whose large, blue eyes were wide with concern. He made himself stop shivering, mentally chastising himself for the visible display of weakness, and offered her a reassuring smile. There was no use worrying his subordinates after all. "Hey, no worries, Mois-dono," he drawled with a lazy wave of his hand. "I'm fine. What we should be concerned about is the mission, de arimasu."

"Yeah!" Tamama interjected from across the table. He was shaking as well, although from the look on his face it had nothing to do with the cold; if looks could maim, the one he was giving the Angol would have left her in a basket. "The Sergeant doesn't need your pity, woman, so back off!"

Keroro fixed the two of them with a stern glare, and Tamama immediately reddened and silenced. Normally he didn't mind their rivalry – in fact, he silently approved of it, being of the mind that competition spurred hard work – but at the moment, dissent among the ranks was the last thing he needed. That, or for another of them to disappear on him. An unavoidable sigh escaped his throat at the thought of his Corporal and Lance Corporal – wherever they were – and Mois gave him another fretful glance at the sound. This time he simply found it irritating.

"Look," he said patiently, "I know we're all on edge about this, de arimasu. We're tired, we're hungry, and we have no idea what's going on." He couldn't help but flick his eyes in Peppers' direction; the man claimed to have told them all he could, but they still knew next to nothing. He was difficult to crack, that one, and the more time Keroro spent around him the less sense he made. There were only two possible explanations that Keroro could reason out for his abnormalities: The first was that the man was insane, the second…

"…you're not human," Keroro said quietly. The rest of the platoon gasped, and Peppers' head swiveled sharply in his direction, knowing the statement was directed at him. A bead of sweat trickled down the sergeant's face as they regarded one another, the tension between the two of them congealing into an uncomfortable silence. Keroro knew the atmosphere all too well, having experienced Giroro's wrath before; it was the anticipatory pause that filled the moment between the cock of a gun and the pull of the trigger. It was as if Keroro had bared his weapon, and was waiting for the duel to begin.

But whatever showdown he expecting, it didn't happen. After a few moments of unreadable silence, Peppers simply shrugged and resumed what he was doing. "Not human," he mused as he worked. "You may be right. I'd actually considered the possibility myself a time or two. But after thinking it over long and hard, I'm pretty sure I am. Just doesn't make sense otherwise."

Keroro gaped at his unexpected response. _Pretty sure he was?_ What kind of answer was that? Whatever it meant, Kururu at least seemed to appreciate it, having nearly fallen out of his chair laughing.

"Ku ku ku! I'm actually inclined to believe him, boss." The intelligence officer paused to catch his breath and wipe tears from under his glasses. "He's just crazy enough that he may be telling the truth. Ku ku! Besides," he leaned in slightly and lowered his voice, "I'm a genius, and even I've never seen translating technology that can do what this guy can. He's not just speaking one language and everyone else hearing it in another one – it's like he's speaking every language at once, and everybody understands it. Technology like that is way beyond what even we're capable of doing… ku ku ku!"

"He may have a point, Uncle," Mois piped up. "You could say, truth is stranger than fiction?"

Keroro frowned, considering what they were saying. Whoever – or whatever – this Peppers guy was, he embodied something that none of them could explain. And it wasn't just him; it was this whole messed-up town. The more he had seen of this place, the more he'd begun to realize that what he'd always accepted as the truth was nothing but a dark mirror that masked the sinister reality beneath, and Arkham served as a nexus between the two levels of existence. Earlier he had questioned Peppers' sanity, but now he was beginning to question his own. In a universe like this, what did it mean to be sane, anyway?

"Hey, Sarge," Peppers said suddenly, running his fingers through his almost apologetically. "Listen, I know this isn't easy for you guys. I wish I could tell you more, but the fact is there isn't a whole lot more that I know. The truth is, I don't even know anything about the first thirteen or so years of my life… don't remember a shred of it." He grinned widely, the sudden visage making him look even more like a madman against his unkempt mess of hair. "But there is someone who does know. I think. If you really want answers… I guess I could take you to South Church. You'll find her there." Keroro couldn't help but notice the cloaked witch, whose name he had learned was Veruca, look up at Peppers with a start. She made a move as if to protest, but the Pokopenian silenced her with a small wave of a hand. "It's alright, V. The fool on the hill knows what he's doing… don't I always?"

The twilight eyes simmered with skepticism, but she folded her hands and nodded acquiescingly. The hierarchy among these Pokopenians was decidedly baffling. Keroro turned to the rest of the platoon, who were looking at him as if awaiting instructions, and knew that they could not undertake the task they'd been given without more information. If they were to have any chance at all, they would have to cast their lots with Peppers. "Master Peppers," he said finally, "the Keroro platoon is prepared to follow you, de arimasu. Show us where to go."

A normal Keronian would be loath to remain out in such cold, dry air, but within his meditative state Dororo was barely conscious of physical discomforts. He needed rest, in spirit as well as in body; from his perch atop one of the high, sloped roofs he allowed his entire being to slide into a serene dissociation, his mind distanced from all sensation save that of his companion. The warmth that he felt from her presence was an anchor to reality, a reminder of that long-forgotten dream which he had all but abandoned during his time in Carcosa. Keron and Earth were just planets to him now – home was where Koyuki was, and now he had come home once again.

Her voice spoke in his mind.

_Dororo… what happened while you were gone?_

She was nervous. He could feel the uncertainty in her soul wavelength; unlike the physical voice, which could be disguised, speaking with the mind made it nearly impossible for even the best-trained ninja to hide their emotions. He inhaled deeply, trying to clear his mind. He didn't want to frighten her.

_The opponent we are up against is greater than we imagined, my Koyuki. I have seen where it grows, this decay which is overtaking Earth like a cancer. It is a land of twisted reality, a corruptive blight that would make even the strong weep for release. Koyuki, my one and only… I fear we cannot stop its spread._

He felt strangely calm as he explained the situation to her – no fear crept through, only a deep, relentless sadness. She felt it, and reached out mentally to comfort him. She was afraid, deeply so, yet he detected the slightest hint of joy when he called her his one and only. Her face flashed in his mind, a tiny, cat-like smile creasing the edges of her mouth, and he couldn't help but smile himself at the thought of her.

_There must be something we can do, Dororo. Even if we cannot succeed, we must try._

He nodded to himself and opened his eyes. He remembered the gates Calili had a shown him, their numbers seemingly infinite as they stretched across space-time like a sea. It was impossible… but no, Koyuki was right. They must at least try.

A faint rumble sounded nearby, so low it almost could have been the imagination. Dororo's ears perked up, and he noticed Koyuki had turned suddenly in its direction. No need to ask if she'd heard it; something was almost certainly there.

"Dororo, what is that?"

He frowned, wrinkling his nose as he caught of a whiff of an unidentifiable stench. The rumbling sounded again, this time louder. "I don't know. Koyuki… be on your guard."

A shockwave suddenly rippled through the air, nearly blasting Dororo from the rooftop. He flipped in midair, instinctively twisting to regain his foothold, and as he and Koyuki landed simultaneously the air around them darkened and seemed to become thicker. Almost immediately the stink became unbearable, flooding into Dororo's mouth and nostrils until he nearly gagged. Looking up, he tried to distinguish what _it_ was, but could only make out a monstrous brown sheen that slicked across the surface of the sky like an oily snakeskin.

"Dororo! It… it's huge!"

His eyes followed where Koyuki was pointing, tracing the surface of the beast across its roiling mass which flowed from the sky into the streets and around the entire block. It flowed like liquid, but as he looked closer he could make out a mound of scaly, segmented flesh, like a monstrous ethereal tapeworm. Dororo gritted his teeth, his katana flashing from its scabbard as he prepared for battle. From the corner of his eye, he saw Koyuki; she was shaking badly, her eyes wide and staring vacantly into nothing, and even when Dororo tried to reach out to her with his mind she remained rooted to the spot, unresponsive.

"Koyuki! Koyuki, you must fight it!"

The thing blacked out the sky as it twisted above them; it had no head, but the ragged stump at its base turned to face them as if it could somehow see its prey. It made no noise save the low rumble that split the air as it thrashed about, coiling over and around itself in monstrous anticipation. Koyuki stepped back, not even seeming to notice as she lost her footing and began to pitch backward off the roof and toward the blackened streets below.

"Koyuki!"

The beast charged.


End file.
